There is much to support the view that it is clothes that wear us, and not we, them; we may make them take the mould of arm or breast, but they mould our hearts, our brains, our tongues to their liking. |
These are the soul's changes. I don't believe in aging. I believe in forever altering one's aspect to the sun. Hence my optimism. |
They can because they think they can. |
This is an important book, the critic assumes, because it deals with war. This is an insignificant book because it deals with the feelings of women in a drawing-room. |
This soul, or life within us, by no means agrees with the life outside us. If one has the courage to ask her what she thinks, she is always saying the very opposite to what other people say. |
Those comfortably padded lunatic asylums which are known, euphemistically, as the stately homes of England |
To depend upon a profession is a less odious form of slavery than to depend upon a father. |
To enjoy freedom we have to control ourselves. |
To enjoy freedom, if the platitude is pardonable, we have of course to control ourselves. We must not squander our powers, helplessly and ignorantly, squirting half the house in order to water a single rose-bush; we must train them, exactly and powerfully, here on the very spot. |
To look life in the face, always, to look life in the face, and to know it for what it is...at last, to love it for what it is, and then to put it away. |
Tom's great yellow bronze mask all draped upon an iron framework. An inhibited, nerve-drawn; dropped face -- as if hung on a scaffold of heavy private brooding; and thought. |
We all indulge in the strange, pleasant process called thinking, but when it comes to saying, even to someone opposite, what we think, then how little we are able to convey! |
We are nauseated by the sight of trivial personalities decomposing in the eternity of print. |
We can best help you to prevent war not by repeating your words and following your methods but by finding new words and creating new methods. |
What I like, or one of the things I like, about motoring is the sense it gives one of lighting accidentally, like a voyager who touches another planet with the tip of his toe, upon scenes which would have gone on, have always gone on, will go on, unrecorded, save for this chance glimpse. Then it seems to me I am allowed to see the heart of the world uncovered for a moment. |