The brute necessity of believing something so long as life lasts does not justify any belief in particular.
Poetry is an attenuation, a rehandling, an echo of crude experience; it is itself a theoretic vision of things at arm's length.
Those who speak most of progress measure it by quantity and not by quality.
Art is a delayed echo.
I have no axe to grind; only my thoughts to burnish.
The true Christian is in all countries a pilgrim and a stranger.