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

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

I never could get on with representative individuals but people who existed on their own account and with whom it might therefore be possible to be friends.

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

Reverence is fatal to literature.

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

It is the vice of a vulgar mind to be thrilled by bigness.