Imprisoned in every fat man a thin one is wildly signalling to be let out.

Sheep with a nasty side.

We must select the illusion which appeals to our temperament, and embrace it with passion, if we want to be happy.

A writer is in danger of allowing his talent to dull who lets more than a year go past without finding himself in his rightful place of composition, the small single unluxurious retreat of the twentieth century, the hotel bedroom.

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.

There is no pain equal to that which two lovers can inflict on one another. This should be made clear to all who contemplate such a union. The avoidance of this pain is the beginning of wisdom, for it is strong enough to contaminate the rest of our lives.

The shock, for an intelligent writer, of discovering for the first time that there are people younger than himself who think him stupid is severe.