Most men, whether men or women, wish above all else to be comfortable, and thought is a pre-eminently uncomfortable process; it brings to the individual far more suffering than happiness in a semi-civilised world which still goes to war.

I know of no place where the wind can be as icy and the damp so penetrating as in Oxford round about Easter time.

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

If the would-be writer studies people in their everyday lives and discovers how to make his characters in their quieter moods interesting to his readers, he will have learned far more than he can ever learn from the constant presentation of crises.

However deep our devotion may be to parents or to children, it is our contemporaries alone with whom understanding is instinctive and entire.

There is an abiding beauty which may be appreciated by those who will see things as they are and who will ask for no reward except to see.

The tragedy of journalism lies in its impermanence; the very topicality which gives it brilliance condemns it to an early death. Too often it is a process of flinging bright balloons in the path of the hurricane, a casting of priceless petals upon the rushing surface of a stream.