All Great Truths Begin As Blasphemies.

I Wish To Boast That Pygmalion Has Been An Extremely Successful Play All Over Europe And North America As Well As At Home. It Is So Intensely And Deliberately Didactic, And Its Subject Is Esteemed So Dry, That I Delight In Throwing It At The Heads Of The Wiseacres Who Repeat The Parrot Cry That Art Should Never Be Didactic. It Goes To Prove My Contention That Art Should Never Be Anything Else.

A Moderately Honest Man With A Moderately Faithful Wife, Moderate Drinkers Both, In A Moderately Healthy House: That Is The True Middle Class Unit.

German And Spanish Are Accessible To Foreigners: English Is Not Accessible Even To Englishmen.

When I See That The Nineteenth Century Has Crowned The Idolatry Of Art With The Deification Of Love, So That Every Poet Is Supposed To Have Pierced To The Holy Of Holies When He Has Announced That Love Is The Supreme, Or The Enough, Or The All, I Feel That Art Was Safer In The Hands Of The Most Fanatical Of Cromwell's Major Generals Than It Will Be If Ever It Gets Into Mine.

Happiness And Beauty Are By-products. Folly Is The Direct Pursuit Of Happiness And Beauty.