Philosophy is really homesickness.

If God were not only to hear our prayers, as he does ever and always, but to answer them as we want them answered, he would not be God our Saviour but the ministering genius of our destruction.

The region belonging to the pure intellect is straitened: the imagination labours to extend its territories, to give it room. She sweeps across the boarders, searching out new lands into which she may guide her plodding brother. The imagination is the light which redeems from the darkness for the eyes of the understanding. Novalis says, 'The imagination is the stuff of the intellect' -affords, that is, the material upon which the intellect works.

Anything big enough to occupy our minds is big enough to hang a prayer on.

We must do the thing we must Before the thing we may; We are unfit for any trust Till we can and do obey.

Annihilation itself is no death to evil. Only good where evil was, is evil dead. An evil thing must live with its evil until it chooses to be good. That alone is the slaying of evil.

Beauty and sadness always go together. Nature thought beauty too rich to go forth Upon the earth without a meet alloy.