Pure morality is only an instinctive adjustment which the soul makes.

Only this shimmeriness is the real living. The shape is a dead crust. The shimmer is inside really.

I shall be glad when you have strangled the invincible respectability that dogs your steps.

The human consciousness is really homogeneous. There is no complete forgetting, even in death.

When I hear modern people complain of being lonely then I know what has happened. They have lost the cosmos.

Behold then Septimus Dodge returning to Dodge-town victorious. Not crowned with laurel, it is true, but wreathed in lists of things he has seen and sucked dry. Seen and sucked dry, you know: Venus de Milo, the Rhine or the Coliseum: swallowed like so many clams, and left the shells.

What's that as flies without wings, your ladyship? Time! Time!