Science is unflinchingly deterministic, and it has begun to force its determinism into morals. On some shining tomorrow a psychoanalyst may be put into the box to prove that perjury is simply a compulsion neurosis, like beating time with the foot at a concert or counting the lampposts along the highway.

A poet more than thirty years old is simply an overgrown child.

Man's objection to love is that it dies hard: women's, that when it is dead it stays dead.

A living language is like a man suffering incessantly from small hemorrhages, and what it needs above all else is constant transactions of new blood from other tongues. The day the gates go up, that day it begins to die.

Laws are no longer made by a rational process of public discussion; they are made by a process of blackmail and intimidation, and they are executed in the same manner

The ideal state for a philosopher, indeed, is celibacy tempered by polygamy.

It is my conviction that no normal man ever fell in love, within the ordinary meaning of the term, after the age of thirty.