We chase the reward, we get the reward and then we discover that the true reward is always the next reward. Buying pleasure is a false end.

The craving to risk death is our last great perversion. We come from night, we go into night. Why live in night?

People knew less of each other, perhaps, but they felt more free of each other, and so were more individual. The entire world was not for them only a push or a switch away. Strangers were strange, and sometimes with an exciting, beautiful strangeness. It may be better for humanity that we should communicate more and more.

I just think of things as beautiful or not. Can't you understand? I don't think of good or bad. Just of beautiful or ugly. I think a lot of nice things are ugly and a lot of nasty things are beautiful.

I mean I never feel I feel what I ought to feel.

I love making, I love doing. I love being to the full, I love everything which is not sitting and watching and copying and dead at heart.

That's the trouble with provincial life. Everyone knows everyone and there is no mystery. No romance.