But beauty, real beauty, ends where an intellectual expression begins. Intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration, and destroys the harmony of any face. The moment one sits down to think, one becomes all nose, or all forehead, or something horrid. Look at the successful men in any of the learned professions. How perfectly hideous they are! Except, of course, in the Church. But then in the Church they don't think.

Youth is the only thing worth having.

Only people who look dull ever get into the House of Commons, and only people who are dull ever succeed there.

Miss Prism: Do not speak slightingly of the three-volume novel, Cecily. I wrote one myself in earlier days. Cecily: Did you really, Miss Prism? How wonderfully clever you are! I hope it did not end happily? I don't like novels that end happily. They depress me so much. Miss Prism: The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what fiction means.

Education is very admirable but let us not forget that anything worth knowing cannot be taught.

There are only two kinds of people who are really fascinating - people who know absolutely everything, and people who know absolutely nothing.

Sometimes it takes courage to give into temptation.