Men have ascribed to God imperfections that they would deplore in themselves.

Excess on occasion is exhilarating. It prevents moderation from acquiring the deadening effect of a habit.

I can imagine no more comfortable frame of mind for the conduct of life than a humorous resignation.

From the earliest time the old have rubbed it into the young that they are wiser, and before the young had discovered what nonsense this was they were old too, and it profited them to carry on the imposture.

A God that can be understood is no God. Who can explain the Infinite in words?

The secret to life is meaningless unless you discover it yourself.

But I am not sure it would contain any short stories. For the short story is a minor art, and it must content itself with moving, exciting and amusing the reader. ...I do not think that there is any (short story) that will give the reader that thrill, that rapture, that fruitful energy which great art can produce.