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

All wines are by their very nature full of reminiscence, the golden tears and red blood of summers that are gone.

Modern science, then, so far from being an enemy of romance, is seen on every hand to be its sympathetic and resourceful friend, its swift and irresistible helper in its serious need, and an indulgent minister to its lighter fancies.

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 roads indeed lead to Rome, but theirs also is a more mystical destination, some bourne of which no traveller knows the name, some city, they all seem to hint, even more eternal.

Wild oats will get sown some time, and one of the arts of life is to sow them at the right time.