England, where nobody ever says what they mean: and by denying feeling, kill it off stone-cold at the roots.

Virtue in a man doesn't make you want to grab him.

But the true evil of drink lies in the disillusion: that the initial pleasure very soon evaporates, leaving a demoralizing craving for more, which is not even temporarily pleasurable. Which then leads to deterioration of the faculties of both body and mind; plus a bewildering lack of co-operation between the two.

My bitterness is not an abstract substance, it is as solid as a Christmas cake; I can cut it in slices and hand it round and there is still plenty left, for tomorrow.

money ... is only important when you have none; and though it may not be everything, it goes a very long way towards blocking up the winter draft of age.

When the desire is on for one particular person, nobody else will do.

There is nothing harder for an Artist than to retain his Artistic integrity in the tomb of success. A tomb, nevertheless, which nearly every Artist: whether he admits it or not; naturally wants to get into.