Language is a machine for making falsehoods.

As we live our precarious lives on the brink of the void, constantly coming closer to a state of nonbeing, we are all too often aware of our fragitlity.

Those who hope, by retiring from the world, to earn a holiday from human frailty, in themselves and others, are usually disappointed.

The sending of a letter constitutes a magical grasp upon the future.

Most real relationships are involuntary.

until I have been able to bury my head so deep in dear London that I can forget that I have ever been away I am inconsolable.

emotions really exist at the bottom of the personality or at the top. in the middle they are acted. this is why all the world is a stage.