You preferred to be a lunatic, a minority of one.

Why was it that they could never shout like that about anything that mattered?

She was very young...she still expected something from life, she did not understand that to push an inconvenient person over a cliff solves nothing.

As with the Christian religion, the worst advertisement for Socialism is its adherents.

Joyce is a poet and also an elephantine pedant.

The books one reads in childhood, and perhaps most of all the bad and good bad books, create in one's mind a sort of false map of the world, a series of fabulous countries into which one can retreat at odd moments throughout the rest of life, and which in some cases can survive a visit to the real countries which they are supposed to represent.

All nationalistic distinctions - all claims to be better than somebody else because you have a different-shaped skull or speak a different dialect - are entirely spurious, but they are important so long as people believe in them.