Railway termini are our gates to the glorious and the unknown. Through them we pass out into adventure and sunshine, to them, alas! we return.

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

Life - No, I've nothing to teach you about it for the moment. May be writing about it another week.

Those who search for truth are too conscious of the maze to be hard on others...

It is thus, if there is any rule, that we ought to die--neither as victim nor as fanatic, but as the seafarer who can greet with an equal eye the deep that he is entering, and the shore that he must leave.

Neanderthal man listened to stories, if one may judge by the shape of his skull.

I think - I think - I think how little they think what lies so near them.