Those of us who were brought up as Christians and have lost our faith have retained the sense of sin without the saving belief in redemption. This poisons our thought and so paralyses us in action.

The worst vice of the solitary is the worship of his food.

He [George Orwell] would not blow his nose without moralising on conditions in the handkerchief industry.

Melancholy and remorse forms the deep leaden keel which enables us to sail into the wind of reality.

Promise is the capacity for letting people down.

Youth is a period of missed opportunities.

The artist is a member of the leisured classes who cannot pay for his leisure.