Man has to pick up the use of his functions as he goes along- especially the function of Love.

Expansion, that is the idea the novelist must cling to, not completion, not rounding off, but opening out.

Love is a great force in private life; it is indeed the greatest of all things; but love in public affairs does not work.

A work of art is never finished. It is merely abandoned.

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

Human relations are impossible. When they are real they are uncomfortable, and when they are comfortable they are unreal. It was for the journey into solitude that the human soul was created.

Riposte of "that old lady in the anecdote who was accused by her nieces of being illogical," Logic! Good gracious! What rubbish! How can I tell what I think till I see what I say?