Only the very greatest art invigorates without consoling.
We can only learn to love by loving.
Tal como nos conocemos, somos objetos falsos, imposturas, ramilletes de ilusionesLos juicios sobre las personas no son jamás decisivos, surgen de resúmenes que inmediatamente hacen pensar en la necesi...
One of the secrets of a happy life is continuous small treats, and if some of these can be inexpensive and quickly procured so much the better.
Love is no respecter of ages, everyone knows that.
For most of us, for almost all of us, truth can be attained, if at all, only in silence. It is in silence that the human spirit touches the divine.
An experience is richest not talked of.
The priesthood is a marriage. People often start by falling in love, and they go on for years without realizing that love must change into some other love which is so unlike it that it can hardly be r...
Violence is born of the desire to escape oneself.
The sun shone calm and bright on the grass, refreshed by the rain, on the border of pretty stones, on the sparkling yellow rocks. It was a caricature of a happy scene.
The police moved us on at about six a.m. This is the hour when, for some reason, one begins to be a menace to law and order.
The painter copies this bed from one point of view. He is thus at three removes from reality. He does not understand the bed, he does not measure it, he could not make it.
The idea of attention or contemplation, of looking carefully at something and it before the mind, may be conveyed early on in childhood. 'Look, listen, isn't that nice?' Also, 'Don't touch!' This is...
So we live; a spirit that broods and hovers over the continual death of time, the lost meaning, the unrecaptured moment, the unremembered face, until the final chop that ends all our moments and plung...
She has somehow missed the bus of life.
One forgot, one forgot. What hold had one on the past? The present moment was a little travelling in darkness.
Of course this chattering diary is a facade, the literary equivalent of the everyday smiling face which hides the inward ravages of jealousy, remorse, fear and the consciousness of irretrievable moral...
It was a piece of thoroughly picturesque and proper violence. I like a violent man, really, a man who's a bit of a brute in a decent straightforward way.
I rather liked him.I asked him to come and see us.'‘Oh Christ !’‘But, Bradley, you mustn’t reject people,you musn't just write them of. You must be curious about them. Curiosity is kind of charity.’‘I...
I felt a deep grief that crouched and stayed still as if it was afraid to move.