One cannot always keep an adder in one's breast to feed one, nor rise up every night to sow thorns in the garden of one's soul.

You don' t love someone for their looks, their clothes or their fancy cars, but because they sing a song only you can hear.

How does one cure the soul? Through the senses.

And now, let us go out on the terrace where 'droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost,' while the evening star 'washes the dusk with silver.' At twilight nature becomes a wonderfully suggestive effect, and is not without loveliness, though perhaps its chief use is to illustrate quotations from the poets.

Is insincerity such a terrible thing? I think not. It is merely a method by which we can multiply our personalities.

His night had been untroubled by any images of pleasure or of pain. But youth smiles without any reason. It is one of its chiefest charms.

One of the requisites of sanity is to disagree with the majority of the British public.