Our civilization is still in a middle stage, scarcely beast, in that it is no longer wholly guided by instinct; scarcely human, in that it is not yet wholly guided by reason.

You walk into a room, see a woman, and something happens. It's chemical. What are you going to do about it?

I believe in the compelling power of love.

Let no one underestimate the need of pity. We live in a stony universe whose hard, brilliant forces rage fiercely.

I sacrifice to the God of Beauty — the impulse to beauty in nature. Here are flowers. Here is wine spilled on the floor. I will burn incense & myrhh. I will kneel & strike my breast & touch the dust with my forehead. I will I will! Only do not forsake me, Oh God of beauty.

Morality and ethics are nothing but footballs, wherewith people, strong people play to win points.

Life is a God-damned, stinking, treacherous game and nine hundred and ninety-nine men out of a thousand are bastards.