For what we call illusions are often, in truth, a wider vision of past and present realities - a willing movement of a man's soul with the larger sweep of the world's forces - a movement towards a more assured end than the chances of a single life.

Speech may be barren; but it is ridiculous to suppose that silence is always brooding on a nestful of eggs.

Vague memories hang about the mind like cobwebs.

Worldly faces never look so worldly as at a funeral. They have the same effect of grating incongruity as the sound of a coarse voice breaking the solemn silence of night.

And, of course men know best about everything, except what women know better.

I not only want to be loved, I want to be told that I'm loved.

In travelling I shape myself betimes to idleness And take fools' pleasure