The soul is a very perfect judge of her own motions, if your mind doesn’t dictate to her.
Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically.
Oh the innocent girl in her maiden teens knows perfectly well what everything means.
There’s always the hyena of morality at the garden gate, and the real wolf at the end of the street.
The elephant, the huge old beast, is slow to mate.
Creatures that hang themselves up like an old rag, to sleep; And disgustingly upside down. Hanging upside down like rows of disgusting old rags And grinning in their sleep. Bats!
The sense of wonder, that is our sixth sense.
Don’t be sucked in by the su-superior, don’t swallow the culture bait, don’t drink, don’t drink and get beerier and beerier, do learn to discriminate.
I believe that a man is converted when first he hears the low, vast murmur of life, of human life, troubling his hitherto unconscious self.
Homer was wrong in saying, “Would that strife might pass away from among gods and men!” He did not see that he was praying for the destruction of the universe.
I like Australia less and less. The hateful newness, the democratic conceit, every man a little pope of perfection.
I am in love and, my God, it is the greatest thing that can happen to a man.
At the back of my life’s horizon, where the dreamings of past lives crowd.
When love turns into dust, money becomes the substitution.
God is only a great imaginative experience.
Europe’s the mayonnaise, but America supplies the good old lobster.
So slowly the hot elephant hearts grow full of desire, and the great beasts mate in secret at last, hiding their fire.
When one jumps over the edge, one is bound to land somewhere.
Tragedy is like strong acid – it dissolves away all but the very gold of truth.
If a woman hasn’t got a tiny streak of harlot in her, she’s a dry stick as a rule.