Earth laughs in flowers to see her boastful boys Earth-proud, proud of the earth which is not theirs; Who steer the plough, but cannot steer their feet Clear of the grave.

There are moods in which we court suffering, in the hope that here, at least, we shall find reality, sharp peaks and edges of truth. But it turns out to be scene-painting and counterfeit. The only thing grief has taught me is to know how shallow it is.

Power ceases in the instant of repose; it resides in the moment of transition from a past to a new state, in the shooting of the gulf, in the darting to an aim.

What I must do is all that concerns me, not what the people think.

The god or hero of the sculptor is always represented in a transition from that which is representable to the senses, to that which is not.

Government has been a fossil: it should be a plant.

Our opinions of the world, are confessions of character.