A museum is not a first-hand contact: it is an illustrated lecture. And what one wants is the actual vital touch.

There is no such thing as liberty. You only change one sort of domination for another. All we can do is to choose our master.

Don't you find it a beautiful clean thought, a world empty of people, just uninterrupted grass, and a hare sitting up?

The modern pantheist not only sees the god in everything, he takes photographs of it.

Men are free when they are obeying some deep, inward voice of religious belief. Obeying from within. Men are free when they belong to a living, organic, believing community, active in fulfilling some unfulfilled, perhaps unrealized purpose. Not when they are escaping to some wild west. The most unfree souls go west, and shout of freedom.

Brute force crushes many plants. Yet the plants rise again. The Pyramids will not last a moment compared with the daisy. And before Buddha or Jesus spoke the nightingale sang, and long after the words of Jesus and Buddha are gone into oblivion the nightingale still will sing. Because it is neither preaching nor commanding nor urging. It is just singing. And in the beginning it was not a Word, but a chirrup.

Love is the hastening gravitation of spirit towards spirit, and body towards body, in the joy of creation.