Men of great spirit are at high risk at a time when small souls rule the world.

The denizens of Citizens Service Houses are not, as a rule, gifted with a lot of common sense, but they often make up for that by being extremely argumentative and vindictive.

I hate no one, sir. It seems a waste of emotional energy.

Living, we fret. Dying, we live. I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll be of good cheer.

Autobiography. Apparently one should not name the names of those one has been to bed with, or give explicit figures on the amount of money one has earned, those being the two data most eagerly sought by readers; all the rest is legitimate to reveal.

Aristocrats might shrug, but commoners, dreading any collapse of the social order, wanted the rules of behavior to be observed.

When you know that something is dying inside you, you learn not to put much trust in the random vitalities of the fleeting moment.