Cyril Connolly Quotes

For what is liberty but the unhampered translation of will into act?
Cyril Connolly

Hate is the consequence of fear; we fear something before we hate it; a child who fears noises becomes a man who hates noise.
Cyril Connolly

Fear, Hate, Before

Idleness is only a coarse name for my infinite capacity for living in the present.
Cyril Connolly

Living, Present, Name

Imprisoned in every fat man a thin man is wildly signaling to be let out.
Cyril Connolly

Fat, Thin, Wildly

In the sex war, thoughtlessness is the weapon of the male, vindictiveness of the female.
Cyril Connolly

War, Sex, Female

It is a mistake to expect good work from expatriates for it is not what they do that matters but what they are not doing.
Cyril Connolly

Work, Good, Expect

Like water, we are truest to our nature in repose.
Cyril Connolly

Nature, Water, Repose

Literature is the art of writing something that will be read twice; journalism what will be grasped at once.
Cyril Connolly

Art, Writing, Once

No city should be too large for a man to walk out of in a morning.
Cyril Connolly

Morning, Walk, City

No taste is so acquired as that for someone else's quality of mind.
Cyril Connolly

Mind, Someone, Else

Our memories are card indexes consulted and then returned in disorder by authorities whom we do not control.
Cyril Connolly

Control, Memories, Disorder

The artist is a member of the leisured classes who cannot pay for his leisure.
Cyril Connolly

Cannot, Artist, Pay

The dread of lonliness is greater than the fear of bondage, so we get married.
Cyril Connolly

Fear, Married, Greater

The more books we read, the clearer it becomes that the true function of a writer is to produce a masterpiece and that no other task is of any consequence.
Cyril Connolly

True, Read, Books

The only way for writers to meet is to share a quick peek over a common lamp-post.
Cyril Connolly

Common, Meet, Share

The past is the only dead thing that smells sweet.
Cyril Connolly

Past, Dead, Sweet

There are many who dare not kill themselves for fear of what the neighbours will say.
Cyril Connolly

Fear, Themselves, Dare

There is no more sombre enemy of good art than the pram in the hall.
Cyril Connolly

Good, Art, Enemy

Today the function of the artist is to bring imagination to science and science to imagination, where they meet, in the myth.
Cyril Connolly

Science, Today, Artist

Vulgarity is the garlic in the salad of life.
Cyril Connolly

Life, Salad, Garlic

When we have ceased to love the stench of the human animal, either in others or in ourselves, then are we condemned to misery, and clear thinking can begin.
Cyril Connolly

Love, Human, Thinking

Whom the gods wish to destroy they first call promising.
Cyril Connolly

Wish, Call, Destroy

Words today are like the shells and rope of seaweed which a child brings home glistening from the beach and which in an hour have lost their luster.
Cyril Connolly

Home, Today, Lost

Youth is a period of missed opportunities.
Cyril Connolly

Youth, Period, Missed

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Biography

Nationality: English

Type: Journalist

Born: September 10, 1903

Died: November 26, 1974

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Cite this Page: Citation

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