In the sex war, thoughtlessness is the weapon of the male, vindictiveness of the female.

Hate is the consequence of fear; we fear something before we hate; a child who fears noises becomes the man who hates them.

Imagination is nostalgia for the past, the absent it is the liquid solution in which art develops the snapshot of reality.

The English language is like a broad river on whose bank a few patient anglers are sitting, while, higher up, the stream is being polluted by a string of refuse-barges tipping out their muck.

The more I see of life the more I perceive that only through solitary communion with nature can one gain an idea of its richness and meaning.

Idleness is only a coarse name for my infinite capacity for living in the present.

Approaching forty, I had a singular dream in which I almost grasped the meaning and understood the nature of what it is that wastes in wasted time.