To a thrifty theologian, bent on redemption with economy, there are few points of ethics too fine-spun for splitting.

O God, let me write books! Please, God, let me write books!

nations decay from within more often than they surrender to outward assault.

What was time itself but the bloom, the sheath enfolding experience? Within time, and with time alone, there was life - the gleam, the quiver, the heartbeat, the immeasurable joy and anguish of being.

But, of course only morons would ever think or speak of themselves as intellectuals. That's why they all look so sad.

After all, you can't expect men not to judge by appearances.

He felt with the force of a revelation that to throw up the clods of earth manfully is as beneficent as to revolutionize the world. It was not the matter of the work, but the mind that went into it, that counted - and the man who was not content to do small things well would leave great things undone.