The Library is a wilderness of books.

Much verse fails of being poetry because it was not written exactly at the right crisis, though it may have been inconceivably near to it. It is only by a miracle that poetry is written at all. It is not recoverable thought, but a hue caught from a vaster receding thought.

There is no such thing as accomplishing a righteous reform by the use of "expediency." There is no such thing as sliding up- hill.In morals the only sliders are backsliders.

Our whole life is startlingly moral. There is never an instant's truce between virtue and vice.

Our houses are such unwieldy property that we are often imprisoned rather than housed by them.

Slow are the beginnings of philosophy.

What sort of space is that which separates a man from his fellows and makes him solitary?