Love and Truth, their warfare seems eternal. - E. M. Forster

Death destroys a man, but the idea of death saves him.

She gave up trying to understand herself, and the vast armies of the benighted, who follow neither the heart nor the brain, and march to their destiny by catch-words. The armies are full of pleasant and pious folk. But they have yielded to the only enemy that matters — the enemy within. They have sinned against passion and truth, and vain will be their strife after virtue. As the years pass, they are censured. Their pleasantry and their piety show cracks, their wit becomes cynicism, their unselfishness hypocrisy; they feel and produce discomfort wherever they go.

The only books that influence us are those for which we are ready, and which have gone a little farther down our particular path than we have yet got ourselves.