Boys do not grow up gradually. They move forward in spurts like the hands of clocks in railway stations.

It is the fear of middle-age in the young, of old-age in the middle-aged, which is the prime cause of infidelity, that infallible rejuvenator.

Beneath a mask of selfish tranquility nothing exists except bitterness and boredom. I am one of those whom suffering has made empty and frivolous: each night in my dreams I pull the scab off a wound; each day, vacuous and habit-ridden, I help it re-form.

In my religion, there would be no exclusive doctrine; all would be love, poetry, and doubt.

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

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.

The only way for writers to meet is to share a quick peek over a common lamp-post.