Having achieved and accomplished love, then the man passes into the unknown. He has become himself, his tale is told.

Marriage is the clue to human life, but there is no marriage apart from the wheeling sun and the nodding earth, from the strayingof the planets and the magnificence of the fixed stars.

Towns oftener swamp one than carry one out onto the big ocean of life.

The purest lesson our era has taught is that man, at his highest, is an individual, single, isolate, alone, in direct soul-communication with the unknown God, which prompts within him.

Sunday night meant, in the dark, wintry, rainy Midlands ... anywhere where two creatures might stand and squeeze together and spoon.... Spooning was a fine art, whereas kissing and cuddling are calf-processes.

No man is a man unless to his woman he is a pioneer.

Men are freest when they are most unconscious of freedom. The shout is a rattling of chains, always was.