It is to what we now call manic phases that we owe a great part of the imperishable works of human civilization.
Religion, art, taste, and other delusions.
We invent most of what we purport to find in art, which we call great when our stories about it please us sufficiently.
Yesterday’s distant dream, today’s brilliant innovation, tomorrow’s basic human right.
Christianity is like life insurance: you have to die to collect.
In art incompetence is usually taken for directness and sincerity.
Art in which adults can take no pleasure is unfit for children.
Many of the disorders of the psychology textbooks are quite useful in moderation, and not a few are outright virtues.
It is on the most dubious propositions that we lavish our most ardent desires.
To dominate someone is to think less often of him than he does of you, and to do this on a mass scale is fame.
Pleasure lies chiefly in anticipation and retrospection, the experience itself being necessary to ensure that neither is spoiled.