When love flies it is remembered not as love but as something else.

Ideas are fatal to caste.

No man can be an agnostic who has a sense of humour.

A facade of skyscrapers facing a lake and behind the facade, every type of dubiousness.

But Humanity, in its desire for comfort, had over-reached itself. It had exploited the riches of nature too far. Quietly and complacently, it was sinking into decadence, and progress had come to mean the progress of the Machine.

Like all her friends, I miss her greatly...But...I am sure there is no case for lamentation...Virginia Woolf got through an immense amount of work, she gave acute pleasure in new ways, she pushed the light of the English language a little further against darkness. Those are facts.

He had shown her all the workings of his soul, mistaking this for love.