The civilization of one epoch becomes the manure of the next.

There is no fury like an ex-wife searching for a new lover.

If our elaborate and dominating bodies are given us to be denied at every turn, if our nature is always wrong and wicked, how ineffectual we are; like fishes not meant to swim.

Most of the beauty of women evaporates when they achieve domestic happiness at the price of their independence.

In youth the life of reason is not in itself sufficient; afterwards the life of emotion, except for short periods, becomes unbearable.

Civilization is maintained by a very few people in a small number of places and we need only some bombs and a few prisons to blot it out altogether.

Today the function of the artist is to bring imagination to science and science to imagination, where they meet, in the myth.