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.

I have a narrative, but you will be put to it to find it.

I like my human experience served up with a little silence and restraint. Silence makes experience go further and, when it does die, gives it that dignity common to a thing one had touched and not ravished

No man needs curing of his individual sickness; his universal malady is what he should look to.

Sleep demands of us a guilty immunity.

The truth is how you say it, and to be 'one's self' is the most shocking custom of all.

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