The Initial Mystery that attends any journey is: how did the traveler reach his starting point in the first place?

I'll lie here and learn How, over their ground, Trees make a long shadow And a light sound.

But childhood prolonged, cannot remain a fairyland. It becomes a hell.

I have lost faith in universal panaceas - work is the one thing in which I really believe.

A thousand kindnesses do not make up for a thousand blows.

... how much of our inner substance is it good for us to give to public griefs? The whole modern tendency to agonize over the suffering of the entire globe is surely something new.

The art of one period cannot be approached through the attitudes (emotional or intellectual) of another.