Better the rule of One, whom all obey, than to let clamorous demagogues betray our freedom with the kiss of anarchy.

Life is not governed by will or intention. Life is a question of nerves, and fibres, and slowly built-up cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams.

Charity creates a multitude of sins.

It was only in the theatre that I lived

I don't want to go to heaven. None of my friends are there.

Suffering is one very long moment. We cannot divide it by seasons. We can only record its moods, and chronicle their return. With us time itself does not progress. It revolves. It seems to circle round one center of pain.

I don’t write this letter to put bitterness into your heart, but to pluck it out of mine. For my own sake I must forgive you.