Brave New World, chapter XVII

'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.'

I want to say something about perceived happiness verses real happiness, or the cost of comfort, or the price, and I think it is art.

Brave New World, chapter XII

I know quite well that one needs ridiculous, mad situations like that, one can't write really well about anything else. […] You've got to be hurt and upset; otherwise you can't think of those really good, penetrating, X-rayish phrases.

Macbeth, act five

I just read some Shakespeare and this time it was beautiful.

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death.
..........................................it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.