Acts of injustice done Between the setting and the rising sun In history lie like bones, each one.
The closest modern equivalent to the Homeric hero is the ace fighter pilot.
Ideally, government is the means by which all the individual wills are assured complete freedom of moral choice and at the same time prevented from ever clashing.
Politics cannot be a science, because in politics theory and practice cannot be separated, and the sciences depend upon their separation.
There is a great deal of difference in believing something still, and believing it again.
There's only one good test of pornography. Get twelve normal men to read the book, and then ask them, ''Did you get an erection?'' If the answer is ''Yes'' from a majority of the twelve, then the book is pornographic.
Dance, dance, dance till you drop.
I'm always amazed at the American practice of allowing one party to a homosexual act to remain passive--it's so undemocratic. Sexmust be mutual.
Hemingway is terribly limited. His technique is good for short stories, for people who meet once in a bar very late at night, but do not enter into relations. But not for the novel.
At first critics classified authors as Ancients, that is to say, Greek and Latin authors, and Moderns, that is to say, every post-Classical Author. Then they classified them by eras, the Augustans, the Victorians, etc., and now they classify them by decades, the writers of the '30's, '40's, etc. Very soon, it seems, they will be labeling authors, like automobiles, by the year.
Herds of reindeer move across Miles and miles of golden moss
The desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews Not to be born is the best for man The second best is a formal order The dance's pattern, dance while you can. Dance, dance, for the figure is easy The tune is catching and will not stop Dance till the stars come down from the rafters Dance, dance, dance till you drop.
We all have these places where shy humiliations gambol on sunny afternoons.
Beloved, we are always in the wrong, Handling so clumsily our stupid lives, Suffering too little or too long, Too careful even in our selfish loves: The decorative manias we obey Die in grimaces round us every day, Yet through their tohu-bohu comes a voice Which utters an absurd command - Rejoice.
The basic stimulus to the intelligence is doubt, a feeling that the meaning of an experience is not self-evident.
Lovers have lived so long with giants and elves, they won't believe again in their own size.
Anyone who has a child today should train him to be either a physicist or a ballet dancer. Then he'll escape.
Literary confessors are contemptible, like beggars who exhibit their sores for money, but not so contemptible as the public that buys their books.
I don't get acting jobs because of my looks.
The parlour cars and Pullmans are packed also with scented assassins, salad-eaters who murder on milk.
Earth, receive an honored guest; William Yeats is laid to rest. Let the Irish vessel lie Emptied of its poetry.
There are not many English novels which deserve to be called great: Parade's End is one of them.
Few can remember clearly when innocence came to a sudden end, the moment at which we ask for the first time: Am I loved?
So long as we think of it objectively, time is Fate or Chance, the factor in our lives for which we are not responsible, and about which we can do nothing; but when we begin to think of it subjectively, we feel responsible for our time, and the notion of punctuality arises.
Harrow the house of the dead; look shining at New styles of architecture, a change of heart.
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