Quotes from Aldous Huxley

The physique of a Messiah. But too clever to believe in God or be convinced of his own mission. And too sensitive, even if he were convinced, to carry it out. His muscles would like to act and his feelings would like to believe; but his nerve-endings and his cleverness won't allow it." So I suppose he's very unhappy. So unhappy that he has to laugh like a hyena.

Nature at the middle distance is familiar - so familiar that we are deluded into believing that we really know what it is all about. See very close at hand, or at a great distance, or from an odd angle, it seems disquietingly strange, wonderful beyond all comprehension.

There is no one in the world who cannot arrive without difficulty at the most eminent perfection by fulfilling with love obscure and common duties. J. P. de Caussade

Oh, forgive me! Oh, make me pure! Oh, help me to be good!

Como símbolo de la marea ascendente de exaltación interior, la sangre subió a las mejillas de Lenina

I want to know what passion is,' he said. 'I want to feel something strongly. We are all grown-up intellectually and during working hours,' he went on, 'but we are infants where feeling and desire are concerned.

Like chickens drinking, the students lifted their eyes towards the distant ceiling.

Yo no quiero comodidad. Yo quiero a Dios, quiero poesía, quiero peligro real, quiero libertad, quiero bondad, quiero pecado. —En suma —dijo Mustafá Mond—, usted reclama el derecho a ser desgraciado.

But I don't want comfort; I want god, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.

Did he? Jenny lowered her voice. Shall I tell you what I think of that man? I think he's slightly sinister. Having made this pronouncement, she entered the ivory tower of her deafness and closed the door. Denis could not induce her to say anything more, could not induce her even to listen. She just smiled at him, smiled and occasionally nodded.

Man is a double being and can take, now the god's-eye view of things, now the brute's-eye view.

In the course of their next two or three meetings he frequently repeated this little act of vengeance. It was simple and, since both Helmholtz and the Savage were dreadfully pained by the shattering and defilement of a favourite poetic crystal, extremely effective.

What I glory in is the civilized, middle way between stink and asepsis. Give me a little musk, a little intoxicating feminine exhalation, the bouquet of old wine and strawberries, a lavender bag under every pillow and potpourri in the corners of the drawing-room. Readable books, amusing conversation, civilized women, graceful art and dry vintage, music, with a quiet life and reasonable comfort?—that's all I ask for.

El exceso mental puede producir, para sus fines, la ceguera y sordera voluntarias de una deliberada soledad, la impotencia artificial del ascetismo.

The philosophy that rationalizes power politics and justifies war and military training is always (whatever the official religion of the politicians and war makers) some wildly unrealistic doctrine of national, racial or ideological idolatry, having, as its inevitable corollaries, the notions of Herrenvolk and "the lesser breeds without the Law.

As flores do campo e as paisagens têm um grave defeito: são gratuitas. O amor à natureza não estimula a atividade de nenhuma fábrica.

But chastity means passion, chastity means neurasthenia. And passion and neurasthenia mean instability.

We can be educated for freedom—much better educated for it than we are at present.

In nature, as in work of art, the isolation of an object tends to invest it with absoluteness, to endow it with that more-than-symbolic meaning which is identical with being.

comment savez-vous si la terre n'est pas l'enfer d'une autre planète

Where there are wars, where there are divided allegiances, where there are temptations to be resisted, objects of love to be fought for or defended -- there, obviously, nobility and heroism have some sense. But there aren't any wars nowadays. The greatest care is taken to prevent you from loving any one too much.

an infinity of precautions

??? ????? ? ????? ?? ??? ????? ???: ???? ????? ???? ??? ???? ????? ???? That is he secret of happiness and virtue—liking what you've got to do.

I'm feeling miserable . . . There was no self-pity in his tone, no appeal for sympathy ? only the angry matter-of-factness of a Stoic who has finally grown sick of the long farce of impassibility and is resentfully blurting out the truth.