And the seriousness with which the other party takes my words always raises the doubt whether I have taken them seriously enough myself.

Cobbles and kettledrums! ...I hope this madness isn't going to end in a moonlit climb and broken necks.

All joy... emphasizes our pilgrim status; always reminds, beckons, awakens desire. Our best havings are wantings.

If one could run without getting tired I don't think one would often want to do anything else.

And I say also this. I do not think the forest would be so bright, nor the water so warm, nor love so sweet, if there were no danger in the lakes.

If things are real, they're there all the time.

I am suffering incessant temptations to uncharitable thoughts at present; one of those black moods in which nearly all one's friends seem to be selfish or even false. And how terrible that there should be even a kind of pleasure in thinking evil.