This head has risen above its hair in a moment of abandon known only to men who have drawn their feet out of their boots to walk awhile in the corridors of the mind.

Destiny and history are untidy.

Even the contemplative life is only an effort, Nora my dear, to hide the body so the feet won’t stick out.

Time is a great conference planning our end, and youth is only the past putting a leg forward.

Madness to us means reversion; to such people as Una and Lena it meant progression. Now their uncle had entered into a land beyond them, the land of fancy. For fifty years he had been as they were, silent, hard-working, unimaginative. Then all of a sudden, like a scholar passing his degree, he had gone up into another form.

One must not look inward too much, while the inside is yet tender. I do not wish to frighten myself until I can stand it.

Life is painful, nasty and short.. in my case it has only been painful and nasty.