The best prose is written by authors who see their universe with a poet’s eyes.

I wish those people who write so glibly about this being a holy war and the orators who talk so much about going on, no matter how long the war lasts and what it may mean, could see a case of musterd gas - the poor things burnt and blistered all over with great musterd coloured suppurating blisters, with blind eyes, all sticky and stuck together, and always fighting for breath, with voices a mere whisper, saying their throats are closing and they know they will choke.

All that a pacifist can undertake -- but it is a very great deal -- is to refuse to kill, injure or otherwise cause suffering to another human creature, and untiringly to order his life by the rule of love though others may be captured by hate.

belated maternity has had its compensations; small children have a habit of conferring persistent youth upon their parents, and by their eager vitality postpone the unenterprising cautions and timidities of middle age.

It is probably true to say that the largest scope for change still lies in men's attitude to women, and in women's attitude to themselves.

An author who waits for the right 'mood' will soon find that 'moods' get fewer and fewer until they cease altogether.

Modern war and modern civilisation are utterly incompatible...one or the other must go.