The human mind is generally far more eager to praise and dispraise than to describe and define. It wants to make every distinction a distinction of value; hence those fatal critics who can never point out the differing quality of two poets without putting them in an order of preference as if they were candidates for a prize.

We meet no ordinary people in our lives.

To move with the times is, of course, to go where all times go.

I think I am beginning to understand why grief feels like suspense. It comes from the frustration of so many impulses that had become habitual. Thought after thought feeling after feeling action after action had H. for their object. Now their target is gone. I keep on through habit fitting an harrow to the string then I remember and have to lay the bow down. So many roads lead through to H. I set out on one of them. But now there's an impassable frontier-post across it. So many roads once now so many culs de sac.

We regard God as an airman regards his parachute; it's there for emergencies but he hopes he'll never have to use it.

The worst attitude of all would be the professional attitude which regards children in the lump as a sort of raw material which we have to handle.

Thirst was made for water. Inquiry for truth.