I am here; and here is nowhere in particular.

We're all mad, the whole damned race. We're wrapped in illusions, delusions, confusions about the penetrability of partitions, we're all mad and in solitary confinement.

One's intelligence may march about and about a problem, but the solution does not come gradually into view. One moment it is not. The next it is there.

For a small island [Great Britain], the place is remarkably diverse.

Life should serve up its feast of experience in a series of courses.

An orotundity, which I define as Nobelitis a pomposity in which one is treated as representative of more than oneself by someone conscious of representing more than himself.

Percival was mouse-coloured and had not been very attractive even to his mother.