He is haunted by a demon, a demon against which he feels powerless, because in its first manifestation it has no face, no name, nothing; and the words, the poem he makes, are a kind of exorcism of this demon.

Every moment is a new and shocking transvaluation of all we have ever been.

A toothache, or a violent passion, is not necessarily diminished by our knowledge of its causes, its character, its importance or insignificance.

Composing on the typewriter, I find that I am sloughing off all my long sentences which I used to dote upon. Short, staccato, like modern French prose. The typewriter makes for lucidity, but I am not sure that it encourages subtlety.

We should not confuse information with knowledge.

The True Church can never fail. For it is based upon a rock.

We can say of Shakespeare, that never has a man turned so little knowledge to such great account.