With Cats, some say, one rule is true: Don’t speak till you are spoken to. Myself, I do not hold with that — I say, you should ad-dress a Cat. But always keep in mind that he Resents familiarity. I bow, and taking off my hat, Ad-dress him in this form: O Cat! But if he is the Cat next door, Whom I have often met before (He comes to see me in my flat) I greet him with an oopsa Cat! I think I've heard them call him James — But we've not got so far as names.

I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope, For hope would be hope for the wrong thing.

Those who say they give the public what it wants begin by underestimating public taste and end by debauching it.

I must say Bernard Shaw is greatly improved by music.

Hell is oneself, hell is alone, the other figures in it merely projections. There is nothing to escape from and nothing to escape to. One is always alone.

Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning, every poem an epitaph.

Past art is subject to change.