The trouble with fiction," said John Rivers, "is that it makes too much sense. Reality never makes sense.

That is the secret of happiness and virtue - liking what you've got to do.

Llorar sobre los errores literarios de veinte años atrás, intentar enmendar una obra fallida para darle la perfección que no logró en su primera ejecución, perder los años de la madurez en el intento de corregir los pecados artísticos cometidos y legados por esta persona ajena que fue uno mismo en la juventud, todo ello, sin duda, es vano y futil.

... the moral is plain. Avoid, if possible, being bored yourself or boring others.

Give us this day our daily Faith, but deliver us, dear God, from Belief.

Round pegs in square holes tend to have dangerous thoughts about the social system and tend to infect others with their discontents.

I fell,” he repeated for the hundredth time. “But you didn’t fall very far,” Mary Sarojini now said. “No, I didn’t fall very far,” he agreed. “So what’s all the fuss about?” the child inquired.

Your true traveller finds boredom rather agreeable than painful. It is the symbol of his liberty - his excessive freedom. He accepts his boredom, when it comes, not merely philosophically, but almost with pleasure.

Those who believe that they are exclusively in the right are generally those who achieve something.