I have never yet heard any middle-aged man or woman who worked with his or her brains express any regret for the passing of youth.

She couldn't have found anything nastier to say if she had thought it out with both hands for a fortnight.

I can't think why fancy religions should have such a ghastly effect on one's grammar. It's a kind of intellectual rot that sets in, I'm afraid.

While time lasts there will always be a future, and that future will hold both good and evil, since the world is made to that mingled pattern.

... to mention honor was to suggest its opposite.

Unlike music or poetry or painting, food rouses no response in passionate and emotional youth. Only when the surge of the blood is quieted does gastronomy come into its own with philosophy and theology and the sterner delights of the mind.

Unless we do change our whole way of thought about work, I do not think we shall ever escape from the appalling squirrel-cage of economic confusion in which we have been madly turning for the last three centuries or so, the cage in which we landed ourselves by acquiescing in a social system based upon Envy and Avarice. A society in which consumption has to be artificially stimulated in order to keep production going is a society founded on trash and waste.