The saddest human experience is to view alone the scenes one has viewed through other eyes - to walk solitary where one has walked in company - to have its particular barbed shaft aimed at one from every stick and stone that mark familiar ways.

by the mercy of God all the ideas of youth are reversible!

We have all of us the two natures - the brother and the sister! Not one of us is quite woman - not one of us is all man!

To give! To give without hope of recompense, without question, without fear! That was the message of life.

No weapons are more potent than brevity and simplicity.

We Irish are born dreamers; sometimes we never wake up at all, and then we're counted failures.

Journeys end in lovers' meeting.' ... But the real journey - the journey of adventure itself - is frequently another matter: often gray, often loverless, often demanding from the secret soul of the adventurer spirit and inspiration, lest the blood turn cold in sick dismay, and the brain cloud under its weight of nostalgia.