“White pudding and eggs and sausages and cups of tea! How simple and beautiful was life after all!”

There is no heresy or no philosophy which is so abhorrent to the church as a human being.

All Moanday, Tearday, Wailsday, Thumpsday, Frightday, Shatterday.

I’ve put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant, and that’s the only way of insuring one’s immortality.

The supreme question about a work of art is out of how deep a life does it spring.

The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit.

There’s no friends like the old friends.

There is not past, no future; everything flows in an eternal present.

Jesus was a bachelor and never lived with a woman. Surely living with a woman is one of the most difficult things a man has to do, and he never did it.

Thought is the thought of thought.

Every jackass going the roads thinks he has ideas.

Ask no questions and you’ll hear no lies.

Love loves to love love.

Shakespeare is the happy hunting ground of all minds that have lost their balance.

An Irishman needs three things : silence, cunnning, and exile.

He wanted to cry quietly but not for himself: for the words, so beautiful and sad, like music.

We are all born in the same way but we all die in different ways.

A work of art is not a matter of thinking beautiful thoughts or experiencing tender emotions , but of intelligence, skill, taste, proportion, knowledge, discipline and industry; especially discipline.

I’m obsessed with make-up, but my top tip doesn’t actually involve any products. Beauty starts with glowing skin, and the way to ruin it is with dirty, clogged make-up brushes.

You are just as beautiful as those wounds that house you.

You should realize that there is only one version of yourself in the world and that your flaws make you beautiful.

The most beautiful people are those who are truly themselves, and that’s what I want to show my fans.

Blessed be the Lord for the beauty of summer and spring, for the air, the water, the verdure, and the song of birds.

I define nothing. Not beauty, not patriotism. I take each thing as it is, without prior rules about what it should be.

Beautiful flower, grow untamed.