Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.

There is immunity in reading, immunity in formal society, in office routine, in the company of old friends and in the giving of officious help to strangers, but there is no sanctuary in one bed from the memory of another. The past with its anguish will break through every defense-line of custom and habit; we must sleep and therefore we must dream.

Doing is overrated, and success undesirable, but the bitterness of failure even more so.

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

The river of truth is always splitting up into arms that reunite. Islanded between them, the inhabitants argue for a lifetime as to which is the mainstream.

The Expulsion from Eden is an act of vindictive womanish spite; the Fall of Man, as recounted in the Bible, comes nearer to the Fall of God.

Most people do not believe in anything very much and our greatest poetry is given to us by those who do.