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

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

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

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.

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

Love can bear anything better than ridicule.

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.