Evil has to exist along with good, in order that moral choice may operate.

Then, brothers, it came. Oh, bliss, bliss and heaven. I lay all nagoy to the ceiling, my gulliver on my rookers on the pillow, glazzies closed, rot open in bliss, slooshying the sluice of lovely sounds. Oh, it was gorgeousness and gorgeosity made flesh.

Death comes along like a gas bill one can't pay.

Alex like groweth up, Oh Yes.

I've always felt that English women had to be approached in a sisterly manner, rather than an erotic manner.

Reviewers do not read books with much care . . . their profession is more given to stupidity and malice and literary ignorance even than the profession of novelist.

I think art is sublimated libido. You can’t be a eunuch priest, and you can’t be a eunuch artist.