I will wait and watch till the day of David at last shall be finished, and wisdom no more fox-faced, and the blood gets back its flame.

Be careful, then, and be gentle about death. For it is hard to die, it is difficult to go through the door, even when it opens.

Literature is a toil and a snare, a curse that bites deep.

In the dust where we have buried the silent races and their abominations we have buried so much of the delicate magic of life.

She is my first, great love. She was a wonderful, rare woman - you do not know; as strong, and steadfast, and generous as the sun. She could be as swift as a white whiplash, and as kind and gentle as warm rain, and as steadfast as the irreducible earth beneath us.

When I read Shakespeare I am struck with wonder that such trivial people should muse and thunder in such lovely language.

The soul is a very perfect judge of her own motions, if your mind doesn't dictate to her.