I suppose that every age has its own particular fantasy: ours is science. A seventeenth-century man like Blaise Pascal, who thought himself a mathematician and scientist of genius, found it quite ridiculous that anyone should suppose that rational processes could lead to any ultimate conclusions about life, but easily accepted the authority of the Scriptures. With us, it is the other way `round

American Women: How they mortify the flesh in order to make it appetizing! Their beauty is a vast industry, their enduring allure a discipline which nuns or athletes might find excessive.

I accept the fact I am an unregenerate egghead.

In the beginning was the Lie and the Lie was made news and dwelt among us, graceless and false.

He was not only a bore; he bored for England.

There is no such things as darkness, only a failure to see.

The only ultimate disaster that can befall us is to feel ourselves at home on this earth.