The nineteenth century dislike of Realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass. The nineteenth century dislike of Romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face in a glass.

The moral life of man forms part of the subject-matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium.

There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.

No artist desires to prove anything. Even things that are true can be proved.

To understand a man, you must know his memories. The same is true of a nation.

The illusion that times that were are better than those that are, has probably pervaded all ages.

Nothing irritates us [Fascists] so much as to be taken for pillars of order. Nothing so exasperates us as the people who come to us through fear of Communism. …