There is an aristocracy of the sensitive. They represent the true human tradition of permanent victory over cruelty and chaos.

The people I respect most behave as if they were immortal and as if society was eternal.

Long books, when read, are usually overpraised, because the reader wishes to convince others and himself that he has not wasted his time.

One's favorite book is as elusive as one's favorite pudding.

It is never possible for a novelist to deny time inside the fabric of his novel: he must cling, however lightly, to the thread of his story, he must touch the interminable tapeworm, otherwise he becomes unintelligible, which, in his case, is a blunder.

Our final experience, like our first, is conjectural. We move between two darkness's.

Only people who have been allowed to practise freedom can have the grown-up look in their eyes.