To the Puritan all things are impure, as somebody says.

Satire exists for the purpose of killing the social being [for the sake of] the true individual, the real human being.

But having more freedom she only became more profoundly aware of the big want. She wanted so many things. She wanted to read great, beautiful books, and be rich with them; she wanted to see beautiful things, and have the joy of them for ever; she wanted to know big, free people; and there remained always the want she could put no name to? It was so difficult. There were so many things, so much to meet and surpass. And one never knew where one was going.

The words themselves are clean, so are the things to which they apply. But the mind drags in a filthy association, calls up some repulsive emotion. Well, then, cleanse the mind, that is the real job. It is the mind which is the Augean stables, not language.

Never was an age more sentimental, more devoid of real feeling, more exaggerated in false feeling, than our own.

I like Australia less and less. The hateful newness, the democratic conceit, every man a little pope of perfection.

A woman unsatisfied must have luxuries. But a woman who loves a man would sleep on a board