August creates as she slumbers, replete and satisfied.

We need some contact with the things we sprang from. We need nature at least as a part of the context of our lives. Without cities we cannot be civilized. Without nature, without wilderness even, we are compelled to renounce an important part of our heritage.

Rhetoric takes no real account of the art in literature and morality takes no account of the art in life.

An abundance of some good things is perfectly compatible with the scarcity of others; that life is everywhere precarious, man everywhere small.

Custom has furnished the only basis which ethics have ever had.

There is no conceivable human action which custom has not at one time justified and at another condemned.

To have passed through life and never experienced solitude is to have never known oneself. To have never known oneself is to have never known anyone.