The trouble with the sacred Individual is that he has no significance, except as he can acquire it from others, from the social whole.

Art is man determined to die sane.

The dawn of knowledge is usually the false dawn.

Something can be done with people who put pickled onions in: strangulation seems best.

The achieved West had given the United States something that no people had ever had before, an internal, domestic empire.

One may lack words to express the impact of beauty but no one who has felt it remains untouched. It is renewal, enlargement, intensification. The parks preserve it permanently in the inheritance of the American citizens.

The rat stops gnawing in the wood, the dungeon walls withdraw, the weight is lifted your pulse steadies and the sun has found your heart, the day was not bad, the season has not been bad, there is sense and even promise in going on.