When I am dead, I hope it may be said: His sins were scarlet, but his books were read. – Hilaire Belloc
Child! Do not throw this book about;
Refrain from the unholy pleasure
Of cutting all the pictures out!
Preserve it as your chiefest treasure. – Hilaire Belloc
When friendship disappears then there is a space left open to that awful loneliness of the outside world which is like the cold space between the planets. It is an air in which men perish utterly. – Hilaire Belloc
Just as there is nothing between the admirable omelet and the intolerable, so with autobiography. – Hilaire Belloc