Books have their destinies like men. And their fates, as made by generations of readers, are very different from the destinies foreseen for them by their authors. Gulliver's Travels, with a minimum of expurgation, has become a children's book; a… — Aldous Huxley Copy Share Image
“Unorthodoxy threatens more than the life of a mere individual; it strikes at Society itself.” — Aldous Huxley Copy Share Image
Man has an almost infinite capacity for taking things and people for granted and thereby missing out on the pleasure of being grateful that… — Aldous Huxley Copy Share Image
My fate cannot be mastered; it can only be collaborated with and thereby, to some extent, directed. Nor am I the captain of my… — Aldous Huxley Copy Share Image
Impulse arrested spills over, and the flood is feeling, the flood is passion, the flood is even madness. — Aldous Huxley Copy Share Image
Of course the Dharma-body of the Buddha was the hedge at the bottom of the garden. At the same time, and no less obviously,… — Aldous Huxley Copy Share Image
“The question for the man of sense is: Do we or do we not want to go to hell? And his answer is: No,… — Aldous Huxley Copy Share Image
Thought of the incomprehensible sequence of changes and chances that make up a life, all the beauties and horrors and absurdities whose conjunctions create… — Aldous Huxley Copy Share Image
The third petition of the Lord's Prayer is repeated daily by millions who have not the slightest intention of letting anyone's will be done… — Aldous Huxley Copy Share Image
“Then what’s time for?” asked Lenina in some astonishment. Apparently, for going on walks in the Lake District; for that was what he now… — Aldous Huxley Copy Share Image
All right then," said the Savage defiantly, "I'm claiming the right to be unhappy. — Aldous Huxley Copy Share Image
