London is the epitome of our times, and the Rome of to-day.

Happiness is a perfume you cannot pour on others without getting some on yourself.

A man must consider what a blindman's-buff is this game of conformity.

The eye is easily frightened.

Wherever work is done, victory is attained.

If we live truly, we shall see truly.

To me, however, the question of the times resolved itself into a practical question of the conduct of life. How shall I live? We are incompetent to solve the times. Our geometry cannot span the huge orbits of the prevailing ideas, behold their return, and reconcile their opposition. We can only obey our own polarity.