The manuscript may go forth from the writer to return with a faithfulness passing the faithfulness of the boomerang or the homing pigeon.

Love's a disease. But curable.

One never feels such distaste for one's countrymen and countrywomen as when one meets them abroad.

[Religion is a] primitive insurance against disaster. ... Originally religion was merely a function of the self-preservative instinct. Offer sacrifices to the gods and save your crops. And even Christianity, after all, insures heavily against the flaws in this life by belief in another.

Work is a dull thing; you cannot get away from that. The only agreeable existence is one of idleness, and that is not, unfortunately, always compatible with continuing to exist at all.

Atheism was natural enough, but heresy seemed strange. For, surely, if one could believe anything, one could believe everything.

The poet has to make a synthesis out of the moral life of our time, and this life is lived at this moment on a political plane.