Like a dead man, only friction could make him warm or violence make him mobile.

Every child, everywhere; in the whole world there was not one child who was not gravely, sweetly dancing.

At college, and perhaps for a year afterwards, they had believed in literature, had believed in Beauty and in personal expression as an absolute end. When they lost this belief, they lost everything.

No dream ever entirely disappears. Somewhere it troubles some unfortunate person and some day, when that person has been sufficiently troubled, it will be reproduced on the lot.

He thought of how calm he was. His calm was so perfect that he could not destroy it even by being conscious of it.

It is hard to laugh at the need for beauty and romance, no matter how tasteless, even horrible, the results of that need are. But it is easy to sigh. Few things are sadder than the truly monstrous.

He read it for the same reason an animal tears at a wounded foot: to hurt the pain.