... artists were intended to be an ornament to society. As a society in themselves they are unthinkable.

Mechanical difficulties with language are the outcome of internal difficulties with thought.

If a theme or idea is too near the surface, the novel becomes simply a tract illustrating an idea.

Silence sat in the taxi, as though a stranger had got in.

A novel which survives, which withstands and outlives time, does do something more than merely survive. It does not stand still. It accumulates round itself the understanding of all these persons who bring to it something of their own. It acquires associations, it becomes a form of experience in itself, so that two people who meet can often make friends, find an approach to each other, because of this one great common experience they have had.

Solitary and farouche people don't have relationships; they are quite unrelatable.

Characters are not created by writers. They pre-exist and have to be found.