You talk as if a god had made the Machine," cried the other. "I believe that you pray to it when you are unhappy. Men made it, do not forget that. Great men, but men. The Machine is much, but not everything.

Men yearn for poetry though they may not confess it; they desire that joy shall be graceful and sorrow august and infinity have a form.

I am actually what my age and my upbringing have made me - a bourgeois who adheres to the British constitution, adheres to it rather than supports it, and the fact that this isn't dignified doesn't worry me.

Outside the arch, always there seemed another arch. And beyond the remotest echo, a silence.

The woman who can't influence her husband to vote the way she wants ought to be ashamed of herself.

The English countryside, its growth and its destruction, is a genuine and tragic theme.

The more highly public life is organized the lower does its morality sink.