A thing which I regret, and which I will try to remedy some time, is that I have never in my life planted a walnut. Nobody does plant them nowadays-when you see a walnut it is almost invariably an old tree. If you plant a walnut you are planting it for your grandchildren, and who cares a damn for his grandchildren?

We shall abolish the orgasm. Our neurologists are at work upon it now.

Politically, Swift was one of those people who are driven into a sort of perverse Toryism by the follies of the progressive party of the moment.

Money writes books, money sells them. Give me not righteousness, O Lord, give me money, only money.

You will be hollow. We shall squeeze you empty, and then we shall fill you with ourselves.

In the face of pain there are no heroes.

Lack of money means discomfort, means squalid worries, means shortage of tobacco, means ever-present consciousness of failure-above all, it means loneliness.