When I makes tea I makes tea, as old mother Grogan said. And when I makes water I makes water.

My puns are not trivial. They are quadrivial

Michael Robartes remembers forgotten beauty and, when his arms wrap her round, he presses in his arms the loveliness which has long faded from the world. Not this. Not at all. I desire to press in my arms the loveliness which has not yet come into the world.

Jesus was a bachelor and never lived with a woman. Surely living with a woman is one of the most difficult things a man has to do, and he never did it.

He could not feel her near him in the darkness nor hear her voice touch his ear. He waited for some minutes listening. He could hear nothing: the night was perfectly silent. He listened again: perfectly silent. He felt that he was alone.

[A writer is] a priest of eternal imagination, transmuting the daily bread of experience into the radiant body of everliving life.

We were always loyal to lost causes...Success for us is the death of the intellect and of the imagination. ~ Professor MacHugh