Whether I get on in the world is a question; but I certainly don't get on very well with the world.

Sleep seems to hammer out for me the logical conclusions of my vague days, and offer them to me as dreams.

The only true aristocracy is that of consciousness.

My great religion is a belief in the blood, the flesh, as being wiser than the intellect. We can go wrong in our minds. But what our blood feels and believes and says, is always true. The intellect is only a bit and a bridle.

It always seemed to me that men wore their beards, like they wear their neckties, for show.

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

It's no good trying to get rid of your own aloneness. You've got to stick to it all your life. Only at times, at times, the gap will be filled in. At times! But you have to wait for the times. Accept your own aloneness and stick to it, all your life. And then accept the times when the gap is filled in, when they come. But they've got to come. You can't force them.