Your wits can't thicken in that soft moist air, on those white springy roads, in those misty rushes and brown bogs, on those hillsides of granite rocks and magenta heather. You've no such colours in the sky, no such lure in the distances, no such sadness in the evenings. Oh the dreaming! the dreaming! the torturing, heart-scalding, never satisfying dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, dreaming!

Has fear ever held a man back from anything he really wanted?

A photographer is like a cod, which produces a million eggs in order that one may reach maturity.

We are told that when Jehovah created the world he saw that it was good what would he say now

My schooling did me a great deal of harm and no good whatever; it was simply dragging a child's soul through the dirt.

When you read a biography remember that the truth is never fit for publication.

An English army led by an Irish general: that might be a match for a French army led by an Italian general.