Without doubt cats are intellectuals who have been, by some mysterious decree of Providence, deprived of the comfort of the word.

Woman too commonly commits the sin of self-sacrifice whereby she consents to be sequestered in the home, without intellectual stimulus, so that the tranquil flame of her unspoiled soul should radiate purity and nobility upon an indefinitely extended family.

Neurotics, who cause less distress to themselves and their neighbours than those in the other category, are at war with their own natures. Their right hands are in conflict with their left. Psychotics, and it is those who commit purposeless crimes and prefer death to life, are at war with their environment. Right and left hands strike against the womb that carries them.

For the sake of my country, and perhaps a little for the sake of my soul, I have given up the deep peace of being in opposition.

I had a glorious father, I had no father at all.

There is no escape from mystery. It is the character of our being.

I take it as a prime cause of the present confusion of society that it is too sickly and too doubtful to use pleasure frankly as a test of value.