All living souls welcome whatsoever they are ready to cope with; all else they ignore, or pronounce to be monstrous and wrong, or deny to be possible.

Art is a delayed echo.

The traveller must be somebody and come from somewhere, so that his definite character and moral traditions may supply an organ and a point of comparison for his observations.

A fanatical imagination cannot regard God as just unless he is represented as infinitely cruel.

That fear first created the gods is perhaps as true as anything so brief could be on so great a subject.

Chaos is perhaps at the bottom of everything.

The same battle in the clouds will be known to the deaf only as lightning and to the blind only as thunder.