The mind of man is capable of anything--because everything is in it, all the past as well as all the future. What was there after all? Joy, fear, sorrow, devotion, valor, rage--who can tell?--but truth--truth stripped of its cloak of time.

It is my belief no man ever understands quite his own artful dodges to escape from the grim shadow of self knowledge.

It is not Justice the servant of men, but accident, hazard, Fortune-the ally of patient Time-that holds an even and scrupulous balance.

I remember my youth... the feeling that I could last forever, outlast the sea, the earth, and all men.

... it was written I should be loyal to the nightmare of my choice.

I have a voice, too, and for good or evil mine is the speech that cannot be silenced

That faculty of beholding at a hint the face of his desire and the shape of his dream, without which the earth would know no lover and no adventurer.