I want peace; yes, I'd sell the whole world for a farthing, straight off, so long as I was left in peace. Is the world to go to pot, or am I to go without my tea? I say that the world may go to pot for me so long as I always get my tea. Did you know that, or not? Well, anyway, I know that I am a blackguard, a scoundrel, an egoist, a sluggard.

I swear, gentlemen, that to be too conscious is an illness - a real thorough-going illness.

The digital age believes in the rational ordering of human beings. We believe that information will eventually solve every conceivable problem.

Information paints no picture, sings no song, and writes no poem.

We have an infinite supply of information and yet we cannot read.

The only gain of civilisation for mankind is the greater capacity for variety of sensations - and absolutely nothing more.

A cultivated and decent man cannot be vain without setting a fearfully high standard for himself, and without despising and almost hating himself at certain moments.