For men in earnest have no time to waste In patching fig-leaves for the naked truth.

Better one bite at forty, of truths bitter rind, than the hot wine that gushed from the vintage of twenty.

Two meanings have our lightest fantasies,- One of the flesh, and of the spirit one.

The path of nature is, indeed, a narrow one, and it is only the immortals that seek it, and, when they find it, do not find themselves cramped therein.

Over our manhood bend the skies; Against our fallen and traitor lives The great winds utter prophecies; With our faint hearts the mountain strives, Its arms outstretched, the druid wood Waits with its benedicite And to our age’s drowsy blood Still shouts the inspiring sea.

The one thing finished in this hasty world.

To educate the intelligence is to expand the horizon of its wants and desires.