The greatest task of democracy, its ritual and feast – is choice.
I want to go ahead of Father Time with a scythe of my own.
I must confess that I lost faith in the sanity of the world.
We are always getting away from the present moment. Our mental existence, which are immaterial and have no dimensions, are passing along the Time-Dimension with a uniform velocity from the cradle to the grave.
We are kept keen on the grindstone of pain and necessity.
Losing your way on a journey is unfortunate. But, losing your reason for the journey is a fate more cruel.
While there is a chance of the world getting through its troubles, I hold that a reasonable man has to behave as though he were sure of it. If at the end your cheerfulness in not justified, at any rate you will have been cheerful.
In England we have come to rely upon a comfortable time-lag of fifty years or a century intervening between the perception that something ought to be done and a serious attempt to do it.
One of the darkest evils of our world is surely the unteachable wildness of the Good.
It is not reasonable that those who gamble with men’s lives should not pay with their own.
I would rather be called a journalist than an artist.
The path of social advancement is, and must be, strewn with broken friendships.
The past is the beginning of the beginning and all that is and has been is but the twilight of the dawn.
I must confess that my imagination refuses to see any sort of submarine doing anything but suffocating its crew and floundering at sea.
Heresies are experiments in man’s unsatisfied search for truth.
Nothing leads so straight to futility as literary ambitions without systematic knowledge.
Man is the unnatural animal, the rebel child of nature, and more and more does he turn himself against the harsh and fitful hand that reared him.
There is nothing in machinery, there is nothing in embankments and railways and iron bridges and engineering devices to oblige them to be ugly. Ugliness is the measure of imperfection.
We are living in 1937, and our universities, I suggest, are not half-way out of the fifteenth century. We have made hardly any changes in our conception of university organization, education, graduation, for a century – for several centuries.
When she was fifteen if you’d told her that when she was twenty she’d be going to bed with bald-headed men and liking it, she would have thought you very abstract.