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

Classical and romantic: private language of a family quarrel, a dead dispute over the distribution of emphasis between man and nature.

Obesity is a mental state, a disease brought on by boredom and disappointment.

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

Dining out is a vice, a dissipation of spirit punished by remorse. We eat, drink, and talk a little too much, abuse all our friends, belch out our literary preferences and are egged on by accomplices in the audience to acts of mental exhibitionism. Such evenings cannot fail to diminish those who take part in them. They end on Monkey Hill.

It is significant comment on the victory of science over magic that were someone to say ‘if I put this pill in your beer it will explode,’ we might believe them; but were they to cry ‘if I pronounce this spell over your beer it will go flat,’ we should remain incredulous and Paracelsus, the Alchemists, Aleister Crowley and all the Magi have lived in vain. Yet when I read science I turn magical; when I study magic, scientific.

No one can achieve Serenity until the glare of passion is past the meridian.