If infinity is as they describe it, all things are not just possible but in the end certain.

Prudence says one thing, desire says another, and I'd rather go with desire any time.

A 'weakness,' I now realize, is nothing but a strength not properly developed.

No one seemed able to look at themselves, coolly, from the outside. Their reality was all that could be seen in the light cast ahead by their own wishful thinking.

Novelists... fashioning nets to sustain and support the reader as he falls helplessly through the chaos of his own existence.

People fail you, children disappoint you, thieves break in, moths corrupt, but an Order of the British Empire goes on for ever.

Of course you have to believe in destiny; that everything is sheer chance is an intolerable notion.