It was the hour when gauze-winged insects are born that only live for a day.

Contrast is the dramatist's method.

Humanity, let us say, is like people packed in a automobile which is traveling downhill without lights at a terrific speed and driven by a four-year-old child. The signposts along the way are all marked "progress."

If one who looked from a tower for a new star, watching for years the same part of the sky, suddenly saw it (quite by chance while thinking of other things), and knew it for the star for which he had hoped, how many millions of men would never care?

It was the hour when gauze-winged insects are born that only live for a day.

Once I found out the secret of the universe. I have forgotten what it was, but I know that the Creator does not take Creation seriously, for I remember that He sat in Space with all His work in front of Him and laughed.

Modern poets are bells of lead. They should tinkle melodiously but usually they just klunk.