Never was an age more sentimental, more devoid of real feeling, more exaggerated in false feeling, than our own.

For man, the vast marvel is to be alive. For man, as for flower and beast and bird, the supreme triumph is to be most vividly, most perfectly alive. Whatever the unborn may know, they cannot know the beauty, the marvel of being alive in the flesh. The dead may look after the afterwards. But the magnificent here and now of life in the flesh is ours, and ours alone, and ours only for a time.

You must always be a-waggle with LOVE.

That which one cannot experience in daily life is not true for oneself.

We are so conceited and so unproud.

She herself had never been able to be altogether herself: it had been denied her.

And this is the final meaning of work: the extension of human consciousness. The lesser meaning of work is the achieving of self-preservation.