Lay your sleeping head, my love, Human on my faithless arm.

The countenances of children, like those of animals, are masks, not faces, for they have not yet developed a significant profile of their own.

A verbal art like poetry is reflective; it stops to think. Music is immediate, it goes on to become.

The masculine imagination lives in a state of perpetual revolt against the limitations of human life. In theological terms, one might say that all men, left to themselves, become gnostics. They may swagger like peacocks, but in their heart of hearts they all think sex an indignity and wish they could beget themselves on themselves. Hence the aggressive hostility toward women so manifest in most club-car stories.

We are all here on earth to help others; what on earth the others are here for I don't know.

Most people call something profound, not because it is near some important truth but because it is distant from ordinary life. Thus, darkness is profound to the eye, silence to the ear; what-is-not is the profundity of what-is.

The only reason the Protestants and Catholics have given up the idea of universal domination is because they've realised they can't get away with it.