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

Between threading a needle and raving insanity is the smallest eye in creation.

there is this malign curse laid on dipsomaniacs. That they must absolutely have a drink: in order to feel strong enough to stop drinking.

anybody who drinks seriously is poor: so poor, poor, extra poor, me.

If happiness comes at all: which is by no means prearranged; it comes by the way, while you are seeking for something else. Something outside yourself, beyond yourself: in a brief absorption of self-forgetfulness.

I don't trust sentimentality in men; it goes with tyranny; you can't have one without the other.

I had got to the dawn of the beautiful not caring, but fully aware, stage, which degenerates so imperceptibly into the doing something unpermissible stage.