The pleasure of all reading is doubled when one lives with another who shares the same books.

Looking back, I imagine I was always writing. Twaddle it was too. But better far write twaddle or anything, anything, than nothing at all.

The whole world shall be ours because of our love.

Letters are the real curse of my existence. I hate to write them: I have to. If I don't, there they are - the great guilty gates barring my way.

Can one do nothing for the dead? And for a long time the answer had been - Nothing!

To long for everything: sorrow; to accept everything: joy.

England is merely an island of beef swimming in a warm gulf stream of gravy.