Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically.
Ours is an excessively conscious age. We know so much, we feel so little.
Only in a novel are all things given full play.
The great mass of humanity should never learn to read or write.
The novel is the highest form of human expression so far attained. Why? Because it is so incapable of the absolute.
One could laugh at the world better if it didn't mix tender kindliness with its brutality.
One can no longer live with people: it is too hideous and nauseating. Owners and owned, they are like the two sides of a ghastly disease.
Oh literature, oh the glorious Art, how it preys upon the marrow in our bones. It scoops the stuffing out of us, and chucks us aside. Alas!
Nothing that comes from the deep, passional soul is bad, or can be bad.
One sheds one's sicknesses in books - repeats and presents again one's emotions, to be master of them.
The soul is a very perfect judge of her own motions, if your mind doesn't dictate to her.
You don't want to love - your eternal and abnormal craving is to be loved. You aren't positive, you're negative. You absorb, absorb, as if you must fill yourself up with love, because you've got a shortage somewhere.
When one jumps over the edge, one is bound to land somewhere.
We have to hate our immediate predecessors to get free of their authority.
Tragedy is like strong acid - it dissolves away all but the very gold of truth.