Facts, at any rate, could not be kept hidden. They could be tracked down by inquiry, they could be squeezed out of you by torture. But if the object was not to stay alive but to stay human, what difference did it ultimately make? They could not alter your feelings, for that matter you could not alter them yourself, even if you wanted to. They could lay bare in the utmost detail everything that you had done or said or thought; but the inner heart, whose workings were mysterious even to yourself, remained impregnable.

[...] you can get anything in this world if you genuinely don't want it.

A dirty joke is a sort of mental rebellion.

Bad writers are nearly always haunted by the notion that Latin or Greek words are grander than Saxon ones.

The consequences of every act are included in the act itself.

The organizing principal for any culture is War.

We may be together for another six months—a year—there’s no knowing. At the end we’re certain to be apart. Do you realize how utterly alone we shall be?