Words today are like the shells and rope of seaweed which a child brings home glistening from the beach and which in an hour have lost their luster.

Were I to deduce any system from my feelings on leaving Eton, it might be called The Theory of Permanent Adolescence. It is the theory that the experiences undergone by boys at the great public schools, their glories and disappointments, are so intense as to dominate their lives and to arrest their development. From these it results that the greater part of the ruling class remains adolescent, school-minded, self-conscious, cowardly, sentimental, and in the last analysis homosexual.

Fallen leaves lying on the grass in the November sun bring more happiness than the daffodils.

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.

There is no more sombre enemy of good art than the pram in the hall.

There are only three things which make life worth living: to be writing a tolerably good book, to be in a dinner party of six, and to be traveling south with someone whom your conscience permits you to love.

The friendships which last are those wherein each friend respects the other's dignity to the point of not really wanting anything from him.