A word carries far, very far, deals destruction through time as the bullets go flying through space.

Any work that aspires, however humbly, to the condition of art should carry its justification in every line.

The question is not how to get cured, but how to live.

When one has got to make correct entries, one comes to hate those savages--hate them to the death.

We live as we dream - alone.

This magnificent butterfly finds a little heap of dirt and sits still on it; but man will never on his heap of mud keep still.

But it is like a running blaze on a plain, like a flash of lightning in the clouds. We live in the flicker - may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling!