One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, sleep to wake.

The trouble that most of us find with the modern matched sets of clubs is that they don't really seem to know any more about the game than the old ones did.

Imperfection means perfection hid.

God is the perfect poet.

Stung by the splendour of a sudden thought.

There is nothing so unpardonable as to consent to a senseless, aimless, purposeless life.

Pleasure must succeed to pleasure, else past pleasure turns to pain