I hated the idleness, the stupidity, the respectability, the petty unselfishness.

It is the vice of a vulgar mind to be thrilled by bigness, to think that a thousand square miles are a thousand times more wonderful than one square mile, and that a million square miles are almost the same as heaven.

Only a struggle twists sentimentality and lust together into love.

Culture had worked in her own case, but during the last few weeks she had doubted whether it humanized the majority, so wide and so widening is the gulf that stretches between the natural and the philosophic man, so many the good chaps who are wrecked in trying to cross it.

For it is a serious thing to have been watched. We all radiate something curiously intimate when we believe ourselves to be alone.

Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its highest. Live in fragments no longer

The idea that nations should love one another, or that business concerns or marketing boards should love one another, or that a man in Portugal should love a man in Peru of whom he has never heard -it is absurd, unreal, dangerous. The fact is we can only love what we know personally. And we cannot know much.