I don't like quintessential certitude.

Your work is carved out of agony as a statue is carved out of marble.

Women have no wilderness in them They are provident instead Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts To eat dusty bread.

Hate does not present many choices; if hate is your solution, you are fairly certain to hate all phemonena with equal joy and intensity, without troubling to drag into prominence any one feature from the loathsome whole.

It is through the acceptance of a variety of aethetic and intellectual points of view that a culture is given breadth and density.

... how much of our inner substance is it good for us to give to public griefs? The whole modern tendency to agonize over the suffering of the entire globe is surely something new.

Innocence of heart and violence of feeling are necessary in any kind of superior achievement: The arts cannot exist without them.