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Music is an ocean, but the repertory is hardly even a lake it is a pond.

Aldous Huxley

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Aldous Huxley
Age: 69 †
Born: 1894
Born: July 26
Died: 1963
Died: November 22
Novelist
Philosopher
Poet
Professor
Prosaist
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Writer
Godalming
Surrey
Aldous Leonard Huxley
Ocean
Music
Even
Repertory
Pond
Ponds
Lake
Lakes
Hardly

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Lying in bed, he would think of Heaven and London.
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The horror no less than the charm of real life consists precisely in the recurrent actualization of the inconceivable
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In the world of ideas everything was clear in life all was obscure, embroiled.
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The lion will lay down with the lamb...but every morning they'll have to provide a new lamb. Maybe this world is another planet's hell.
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I have always found that Angels have the vanity to speak of themselves as the only wise.
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The nature of oratory is such that there has always been a tendency among politicians and clergymen to oversimplify complex matters. From a pulpit or a platform even the most conscientious of speakers finds it very difficult to tell the whole truth.
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All gods are homemade, and it is we who pull their strings, and so, give them the power to pull ours.
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Champagne had the taste of an apple peeled with a steel knife.
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In any race between human numbers and natural resources, time is against us.
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To make this trivial world sublime, take half a gram of phanerothyme.
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Happiness is like coke — something you get as a by-product in the process of making something else.
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People are much too solemn about things - I'm all for sticking pins into episcopal behinds.
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Feasts must be solemn and rare, or else they cease to be feasts.
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In spite of language, in spite of intelligence and intuition and sympathy, one can never really communicate anything to anybody. The essential substance of every thought and feeling remains incommunicable, locked up in the impenetrable strong-room of the individual soul and body. Our life is a sentence of perpetual solitary confinement.
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Love is as necessary to human beings as food and shelter [but] without intelligence, ... love is impotent and freedom unattainable.
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Assemble a mob of men and women previously conditioned by a daily reading of the newspapers treat them to amplified band music, bright lights...and in next to no time you can reduce them to a state of almost mindless subhumanity. Never before have so few been in a position to make fools, maniacs, or criminals of so many.
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I'm claiming the right to be unhappy.
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A type of revolutionary novelty may be extremely beautiful in itself but, for the creatures of habit that we are, its very novelty tends to make it illegible, at any rate to begin with.
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An irrelevance, and your life's altered.
Aldous Huxley
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Words form the thread on which we string our experiences.
Aldous Huxley