All that non-fiction can do is answer questions. It's fiction's business to ask them.

Middle age snuffs out more talent than even wars or sudden deaths do.

Soul is nothing but the functional expression of protoplasmic activity in the brain.

To all appearances, the artist acts like a mediumistic being who, from the labyrinth beyond time and space, seeks his way out to a clearing.

... I wanted Ambiades to understand that I considered myself a hierarchy of one.

We are terrified by the idea of being terrified.

For God’s sake, let us be men not monkeys minding machines or sitting with our tails curled while the machine amuses us, the radio or film or gramophone. Monkeys with a bland grin on our faces.

Let us not curse the darkness. Let us kindle little lights.

We had a rule in Tibet that anyone proposing a new invention had to guarentee that it was beneficial, or at least harmless, for seven generations of humans before it could be adopted.

There is no substitute for attentive repetition.

There is no need for faith where there is no consciousness of an element of risk.

'Twas but my tongue, 'twas not my soul that swore.