But it is the province of religion, of philosophy, of pure poetry only, to go beyond life, beyond time, into eternity.

Hope is the biggest of our foolish things.

Honour is manly decency. The shame of being found wanting in it means everything to us. Is this, then, the indefinable, the sacred thing?

The loveliest Muse in the world does not feed her owner; these girls make fine mistresses but terrible wives

History is a novel for which the people is the author.

I love the majesty of human suffering.

The acts of the human race on the world's stage have doubtless a coherent unity, but the meaning of the vast tragedy enacted will be visible only to the eye of God, until the end, which will reveal it perhaps to the last man.