A man's work is rather the needful supplement to himself than the outcome of it.
Not philosophy, after all, not humanity, just sheer joyous power of song, is the primal thing in poetry.
To give and then not feel that one has given is the very best of all ways of giving.
Strange when you come to think of it, that of all countless folk who have lived on this planet, not one is known in history or in legend as having died of laughter.
History does not repeat itself. The historians repeat one another.
Somehow, our sense of justice never turns in its sleep till long after the sense of injustice in others has been thoroughly aroused.