I am one of the unpraised, unrewarded millions without whom Statistics would be a bankrupt science. It is we who are born, who marry, who die, in constant ratios.

To become young again would seem to me an appalling prospect. Youth is a kind of delirium, which can be cured, if it is ever cured at all, by years of painful treatment.

I find a fascination, like the fascination for the moth of a star, in those who hold aloof and disdain me.

The indefatigable pursuit of an unattainable perfection -even though nothing more than the pounding of an old piano -is what alone gives a meaning to our life on this unavailing star.

When they come downstairs from their Ivory Towers, idealists are very apt to walk straight into the gutter.

Fine writers should split hairs together, and sit side by side, like friendly apes, to pick the fleas from each others fur.

What joy can the years bring half so sweet as the unhappiness they've taken away?