I believe the twenty-four hour day has come to stay.
It is a fact that not once in all my life have I gone out for a walk. I have been taken out for walks; but that is another matter.
By its very looseness, by its way of evoking rather than defining, suggesting rather than saying, English is a magnificent vehicle for emotional poetry.
Every kind of writing is hypocritical.
A crowd, proportionately to its size, magnifies all that in its units pertains to the emotions, and diminishes all that in them pertains to thought.
There is much virtue in a window. It is to a human being as a frame is to a painting, as a proscenium to a play, as ‘form’ to literature. It strongly defines its content.
Of course we all know that Morris was a wonderful all-round man, but the act of walking round him has always tired me.
It is so much easier to covet what one hasn’t than to revel in what one has. Also, it is so much easier to be enthusiastic about what exists than about what doesn’t.
The most perfect caricature is that which, on a small surface, with the simplest means, most accurately exaggerates, to the highest point, the peculiarities of a human being, at his most characteristic moment in the most beautiful manner.
Men of genius are not quick judges of character.
The Socratic manner is not a game at which two can play.
Fate weaves the darkness, which is perhaps why she weaves so badly.
Admiration involves a glorious obliquity of vision.
There is in the human race some dark spirit of recalcitrance, always pulling us in the direction contrary to that in which we are reasonably expected to go.
Improvisation is the essence of good talk. Heaven defend us from the talker who doles out things prepared for us; but let heaven not less defend us from the beautiful spontaneous writer who puts his trust in the inspiration of the moment.
It is a part of English hypocrisy or English reserve, that whilst we are fluent enough in grumbling about small inconveniences, we insist on making light of any great difficulties or grief’s that may beset us.
The dullard’s envy of brilliant men is always assuaged by the suspicion that they will come to a bad end.
The Non-Conformist Conscience makes cowards of us all.
History does not repeat itself. The historians repeat one another.
The one real goal of education is to leave a person asking questions.