Truth and Beauty (perhaps Keats was wrong in identifying them: perhaps they have the relation of Wit and Humour, or Rain and Rainbow) are of interest only to hungry people. There are several kinds of hunger. If Socrates, Spinoza, and Santayana had had free access to a midnight icebox we would never have heard of them. Shall I be ashamed of my little mewing truths?... I ask to be forgiven: they are such tiny ones.

The bicycle, the bicycle surely, should always be the vehicle of novelists and poets.

Truth is the ricochet of a prejudice bouncing off a fact.

When you sell a man a book, you don't sell him 12 ounces of paper and ink and glue - you sell him a whole new life.

I had a million questions to ask God: but when I met Him, they all fled my mind; and it didn't seem to matter.

My theology, briefly, is that the universe was dictated but not signed.

One of the penalties of being a human being is other human beings.