It is difficult to keep quiet when everything is being done wrong, but the less you lose your temper the greater your advantage. Also then you will not go mad yourself.

An opinion can be argued with; a conviction is best shot. The logical end of a war of creeds is the final destruction of one, and Salammbo is the classical text-book instance.

We lived always in the stretch or sag of nerves, either on the crest or in the trough of waves of feeling.

I could write for hours on the lustfulness of moving Swiftly.

The Beduin could not look for God within him: he was too sure that he was within God.

Suppose we were (as we might be) an influence, an idea, a thing intangible, invulnerable, without front or back, drifting about like a gas? Armies were like plants, immobile, firm-rooted, nourished through long stems to the head. We might be a vapour, blowing where we listed Ours should be a war of detachment. We were to contain the enemy by the silent threat of a vast, unknown desert

There is an ideal standard somewhere and only that matters and I cannot find it. Hence the aimlessness.