I knew the facts of death before I knew the facts of life. There never was a time when I didn't see the skull beneath the skin.

We English are good at forgiving our enemies; it releases us from the obligation of liking our friends.

Metaphysical speculation is about as pointless as a discussion on the meaning of one's lungs. They're for breathing.

Not so much two ships passing in the night as two ships sailing together for a time but always bound for different ports.

Without the hope of posterity, for our race if not for ourselves, without the assurance that we being dead yet live, all pleasures of the mind and senses sometimes seem to me no more than pathetic and crumbling defences shored up against our ruin.

I don't want anyone to look to me, not for protection, not for happiness, not for love, not for anything.

We are often more merciful to our animals than we are to each other.