We create the world in which we live; if that world becomes unfit for human life, it is because we tire of our responsibility.

Only by avoiding the beginning of things can we escape their end.

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

The dread of loneliness is greater than the fear of bondage, so we get married.

The artist is a member of the leisured classes who cannot pay for his leisure.

The English masses are lovable: they are kind, decent, tolerant, practical and not stupid. The tragedy is that they are too many of them, and that they are aimless, having outgrown the servile functions for which they were encouraged to multiply. One day these huge crowds will have to seize power because there will be nothing else for them to do, and yet they neither demand power nor are ready to make use of it; they will learn only to be bored in a new way.

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