IF we desire European civilization to be a raid and a rescue, we shall insist rather that souls are in real peril than that their peril is ultimately unreal. And if we wish to exalt the outcast and the crucified, we shall rather wish to think that a veritable God was crucified, rather than a mere sage or hero. Above all, if we wish to protect the poor we shall be in favour of fixed rules and clear dogmas. The rules of a club are occasionally in favour of the poor member. The drift of a club is always in favour of the rich one.

I still believe in liberalism today as much as I ever did, but, oh, there was a happy time when I believed in liberals.

It may be a mere patriotic bias, though I do not think so, but it seems to me that the English aristocracy is not only the type, but is the crown and flower of all actual aristocracies; it has all the oligarchical virtues as well as all the defects. It is casual, it is kind, it is courageous in obvious matters; but it has one great merit that overlaps even these. The great and very obvious merit of the English aristocracy is that nobody could possibly take it seriously.

The decay of society is praised by artists as the decay of a corpse is praised by worms.

To be simple is the best thing in the world; to be modest is the next best thing. I am not sure about being quiet.

All good writers express the state of their souls, even (as occurs in some cases of very good writers) if it is a state of damnation.

There is nothing the matter with Americans except their ideals. The real American is all right; it is the ideal American who is all wrong.