Though actually the work of man's hands - or, more properly speaking, the work of his travelling feet, - roads have long since come to seem so much a part of Nature that we have grown to think of them as a feature of the landscape no less natural than rocks and trees.

All religions have periods in their history which are looked back to with retrospective fear and trembling as eras of persecution, and each religion has its own book of martyrs.

Be it whim or emergency, the modern laboratory is equally at the service of romance, equally ready to gratify mankind with a torpedo or a toy.

The road recedes as the traveler advances, leaving a continuous present.

The spiritual element, the really important part of religion, has no concern with Time and Space, temporary mundane laws, or conduct.

It is the fine excesses of life that make it worth living.

All myths that are something more than fancies gain rather than lose in value with time, by reason of the accretions of human experience.