Do you know what a pearl is and what an opal is? My soul when you came sauntering to me first through those sweet summer evenings was beautiful but with the pale passionless beauty of a pearl. Your love has passed through me and now I feel my mind something like an opal, that is, full of strange uncertain hues and colours, of warm lights and quick shadows and of broken music.

A corpse is meat gone bad. Well and what's cheese? Corpse of milk.

What incensed him the most was the blatant jokes of the ones that passed it all off as a jest, pretending to understand everything and in reality not knowing their own minds.

The object of the artist is the creation of the beautiful. What the beautiful is is another question.

My heart is quite calm now. I will go back.

History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.

All things are inconstant except the faith in the soul, which changes all things and fills their inconstancy with light.