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.

Behavior of such cunning cruelty that only a human being could have thought of or contrived it we call 'inhuman,' revealing thus some pathetic ideal standard for our species that survives all betrayals.

Age has extremely little to do with anything that matters. The difference between one age and another is, as a rule, enormously exaggerated.

Mozart is everyone's tea, pleasing to highbrows, middlebrows and lowbrows alike, though they probably all get different kinds of pleasure from him.

God very seldom succeeds. He has very nearly everything against him, of course.

Nothing, perhaps, is strange, once you have accepted life itself, the great strange business which includes all lesser strangeness.

It was a book to kill time for those who liked it better dead.