Oh, for the wonder that bubbles into my soul.

Europe is, perhaps, the least worn-out of the continents, because it is the most lived in. A place that is lived in lives.

The more I see of democracy the more I dislike it. It just brings everything down to the mere vulgar level of wages and prices, electric light and water closets, and nothing else.

Oh, what a catastrophe for man when he cut himself off from the rhythm of the year, from his unison with the sun and the earth. Oh, what a catastrophe, what a maiming of love when it was a personal, merely personal feeling, taken away from the rising and the setting of the sun, and cut off from the magic connection of the solstice and the equinox!

We don't exist unless we are deeply and sensually in touch with that which can be touched but not known.

The great home of the soul is the open road.

The mind can assert anything and pretend it has proved it. My beliefs I test on my body, on my intuitional consciousness, and when I get a response there, then I accept.