How beautiful maleness is, if it finds its right expression.

The English people on the whole are surely the nicest people in the world, and everybody makes everything so easy for everyone else, that there is almost nothing to resist at all.

The day of the absolute is over, and we're in for the strange gods once more.

Literary criticism can be no more than a reasoned account of the feeling produced upon the critic by the book he is criticising.

Why were we driven out of Paradise? Why did we fall into this gnawing disease of unappeasable dissatisfaction? Not because we sinned. Ah, no. All the animals in Paradise enjoyed the sensual passion of coition. Not because we sinned. But because we got sex into our head.

The goal is to know how not-to-know.

They say the sea is cold, but the sea contains the hottest blood of all, and the wildest, the most urgent.