Sir Angus Frank Johnstone Wilson, KBE (August 11, 1913 – May 31, 1991) was an English novelist and short story writer. He was awarded the 1958 James Tait Black Memorial Prize for The Middle Age of Mrs. Eliot and later received a knighthood for his services to literature. (Click here for full Wikipedia article)
All are deceptions, substitutes for the hard job of using reason and industry and intuition and compassion to solve even a little bit of the muddle with humaneness and awe for the natural world and the complexity of human beings.
Envy has the ugliness of a trapped rat that has gnawed its own foot in its effort to escape.
I have no concern for the common man except that he should not be so common.
Life can't be put on paper in all its complexity.
Life isn't just to be found, you have to work for it.
Life today is jungle like... it is complex, it is inhuman in its materialism.
Once a Catholic always a Catholic.
People are able to live with only half a heart, to live without real compassion, because they are able to use words that are only forms.
The opportunities for heroism are limited in this kind of world: the most people can do is sometimes not to be as weak as they've been at other times.
You have a perfect right to consign us all to hell, rector, but you must allow us the choice of how we get there.
Youth is the time for loving, so poets always say.
(August 11 is also the birthday of Robert Green Ingersoll.)