Jealousy is the lifelong noose hanging about the neck of love.

[On journalists:] ... however lyingly libellous they may be: nobody can seriously hurt the reputation of a Great person. If he is hurt: he is not Great. They can but scratch at his skin with their mice nails.

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

Sex divorced from love is the thief of personal dignity.

There is, happily, no limit to the faith of human nature in believing what it wants to believe.

Anybody who thinks there is any vague chance of adult exchange with a child is up the spout; and would be much less disappointed if they recognized the chasm unbridgeably dividing them.

none of what I know is out of books. ... I prefer tactual learning. Touching, on the quick of the sore nail, of present, mobile life. To toy, to gnaw, to tear: at the living element of pain. Like at a living drumstick.