The individual appears for an instant, joins the community of thought, modifies it and dies; but the species, that dies not, reaps the fruit of his ephemeral existence.

Where is wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?

Mr knowledge says i am greater,but Mr wisdom says i am the greatest,because i know both theory & practical,while you know theory only.

In my mind's eye, Shakespeare is a huge, hot sea-beast, with fire in his veins and ice on his claws and inscrutable eyes, who looks like an inchoate hump under the encrustations of live barnacle-commentaries, limpets and trailing weeds.

I think vestigially there's a synesthete in me, but not like a real one who immediately knows what colour Wednesday is.

I think that most of the children's writers live in the world that they've created, and their children are kind of phantoms that wander around the edge of it in the world, but actually the children's writers are the children.