At Midnight Tears Run Into Your Ears.

Because Language Is The Carrier Of Ideas, It Is Easy To Believe That It Should Be Very Little Else Than Such A Carrier.

Innocence Of Heart And Violence Of Feeling Are Necessary In Any Kind Of Superior Achievement: The Arts Cannot Exist Without Them.

The Intellectual Is A Middle-class Product; If He Is Not Born Into The Class He Must Soon Insert Himself Into It, In Order To Exist. He Is The Fine Nervous Flower Of The Bourgeoisie.

Intellectuals Range Through The Finest Gradations Of Kind And Quality: From Those Who Are Merely Educated Neurotics, Usually With Strong Hidden Reactionary Tendencies, Through Mediocrities Of All Kinds, To Men Of Real Brains And Sensibility, More Or Less Stiffened Into Various Respectabilities Or Substitutes For Respectability. The Number Of Ignorant Specialists Is Large. The Number Of Hysterics And Compulsives Is Also Large.

I Cannot Believe That The Inscrutable Universe Turns On An Axis Of Suffering; Surely The Strange Beauty Of The World Must Somewhere Rest On Pure Joy!