We are all serving a life sentence in the dungeon of the self.

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

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.

Sheep with a nasty side.

Marriage is the permanent conversation between two people who talk over everything and everyone until death breaks the record.

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.

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