The East is marvellously interesting for tracing our steps back. But for going forward, it is nothing. All it can hope for is to be fertilised by Europe, so that it can start on a new phase.

Every profound new movement makes a great swing also backwards to some older, half-forgotten way of consciousness.

For God’s sake, let us be men not monkeys minding machines or sitting with our tails curled while the machine amuses us, the radio or film or gramophone. Monkeys with a bland grin on our faces.

The soul is a very perfect judge of her own motions, if your mind doesn't dictate to her.

God is only a great imaginative experience.

Let there be an end ... of all this welter of pity, which is only self-pity reflected onto some obvious surface.

She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.