There is a species of person called a ‘Modern Churchman’ who draws the full salary of a beneficed clergyman and need not commit himself to any religious belief.
We possess nothing certainly except the past.
Charm is the great English blight. It does not exist outside these damp islands. It spots and kills anything it touches. It kills love; it kills art; I greatly fear, my dear Charles, it has killed you.
The anguished suspense of watching the lips you hunger for, framing the words, the death sentence, of sheer triteness!
I never can understand how two men can write a book together; to me that’s like three people getting together to have a baby.
It is no longer possible to accept the benefits of civilization and at the same time deny the supernatural basis upon which it is based.
One has to regard a man as a Master who can produce on average three uniquely brilliant and entirely original similes to every page.
We are American at puberty. We die French.
Almost all crime is due to the repressed desire for aesthetic expression.
How ungenerously in later life we disclaim the virtuous moods of our youth, living in retrospect long, summer days of unreflecting dissipation.
Suffering is none the less acute and much more lasting when it is put into words.
I am suing Lord Beaverbrook for libel and hope for some lovely tax-free money in damages. He has very conveniently told some lies about me.
The tour bus was supposed to be here ten minutes ago. Would it be possible to give them a ring to check they’ve not forgotten us?
The worse I am, the more I need God. I can’t shut myself out from His mercy. That is what it would mean; starting a life with you, without Him. Julia to Charles.
I had been there before; I knew all about it.
If it could only be like this always – always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe and Aloysius in a good temper...
Once you start changing a name, you see, there’s no reason ever to stop. One always hears one that sounds better.
All this fuss about sleeping together. For physical pleasure I’d sooner go to my dentist any day.
Never get mixed up in a Welsh wrangle. It doesn’t end in blows like an Irish one, but goes on forever.
Saints are simply men and women who have fulfilled their natural obligation which is to approach God.