Think before you speak is criticism's motto; speak before you think, creation's.

Pity wraps the student of the past in an ambrosial cloud, and washes his limbs with eternal youth.

While her lips talked culture, her heart was planning to invite him to tea

She would only point out the salvation that was latent in his own soul, and in the soul of every man. Only connect! That was the whole of her sermon. Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height. Live in fragments no longer. Only connect, and the beast and the monk, robbed of the isolation that is life to either, will die.

It is so difficult - at least, I find it difficult - to understand people who speak the truth.

I don't know what to think until I see what I've said.

When that strange race nears the dust and is condemned as untouchable, then nature remembers the physical perfection that she accomplished elsewhere, and throws out a god-not many, but one here and there, to prove to society how little its categories impress her.