No absolute is going to make the lion lie down with the lamb: unless the lamb is inside.

The business of art is to reveal the relation between man and his environment.

One can no longer live with people: it is too hideous and nauseating. Owners and owned, they are like the two sides of a ghastly disease.

The refined punishments of the spiritual mode are usually much more indecent and dangerous than a good smack.

There is no evolving, only unfolding. The lily is in the bit of dust which is its beginning, lily and nothing but lily: and the lily in blossom is a ne plus ultra: there is no evolving beyond.

The peasants of Sicily, who have kept their own wheat and make their own natural brown bread, ah, it is amazing how fresh and sweet and clean their loaf seems, so perfumed, as home-made bread used all to be before the war.

Every man has a mob self and an individual self, in varying proportions.