I am often, I believe, praying for others when I should be doing things for them. It's so much easier to pray for a bore than to go and see him.

Beauty is not democratic; she reveals herself more to the few than to the many.

Did I hate him, then? Indeed, I believe so. A love like that can grow to be nine-tenths hatred and still call itself love.

We make men without chests and expect from them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honor and are shocked to find traitors in our midst.

That fierce imprisonment in the self is but the obverse of the self-giving which is absolute reality.

Many thousands of people have had the experience of finding the first friend, and it is none the less a wonder; as great a wonder (pace the novelists) as first love, or even greater.

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.