In all activities of life, the secret of efficiency lies in an ability to combine two seemingly incompatible states: a state of maximum activity and a state of maximum relaxation.
Life's so ordinary that literature has to deal with the exceptional. Exceptional talent, power, social position, wealth.... Dramabegins where there's freedom of choice. And freedom of choice begins when social or psychological conditions are exceptional. That's why the inhabitants of imaginative literature have always been recruited from the pages of Who's Who.
For in spite of language, in spite of intelligence and intuition and sympathy, one can never really communicate anything to anybody.
Modern man no longer regards Nature as in any sense divine and feels perfectly free to behave toward her as an overweening conqueror and tyrant.
In the course of history many more people have died for their drink and their dope than have died for their religion or their country.
The nature of power is such that even those who have not sought it, but have had it forced upon them, tend to acquire a taste for more.
Did you ever feel, as though you had something inside you that was only waiting for you to give it a chance to come out? Some sort of extra power that you aren't using - you know, like all the water that goes down the falls instead of through the turbines?
Can you say something about nothing?
All our science is just a cookery book, with an orthodox theory of cooking that nobody's allowed to question, and a list of recipes that mustn't be added to except by special permission from the head cook.
If the Prince of Peace should come to earth, one of the first things he would do would be to put psychiatrists in their place.
The lion will lay down with the lamb...but every morning they'll have to provide a new lamb. Maybe this world is another planet's hell.
To his dog, every man is Napoleon; hence the constant popularity of dogs.
The Humanity of men and women is inversely proportional to their Numbers. A Crowd is no more human than an Avalanche or a Whirlwind. A rabble of men and women stands lower in the scale of moral and intellectual being than a herd of Swine or of Jackals.
We can only love what we know, and we can never know completely what we do not love. Love is a mode of knowledge
We don't want to change. Every change is a menace to stability.
There isn't any formula or method. You learn to love by loving - by paying attention and doing what one thereby discovers has to be done.
Science is not enough, religion is not enough, art is not enough, politics and economics are not enough, nor is love, nor is duty, nor is action however disinterested, nor, however sublime, is contemplation. Nothing short of everything, will really do.
Round pegs in square holes tend to have dangerous thoughts about the social system and tend to infect others with their discontents.
But the quiet grows and grows. Beautifully and unbearably.
When truth is nothing but truth, it's unnatural, it's an abstraction that resembles nothing in the real world.
We live together, we act on, and react to one another; but always, and in all circumstances, we are by ourselves.
I'm sick. I've eaten civilisation and I'm sick.
Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the overcompensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn't nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt. Happiness is never grand.
The vast majority of human beings dislike and even actually dread all notions with which they are not familiar... Hence it comes about that at their first appearance innovators have generally been persecuted, and always derided as fools and madmen.
Only times and places, only names and ghosts.
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