How do you manage it, she said, at your age? I told her I'd been saving up for her all my life.

For to know nothing is nothing, not to want to know anything likewise, but to be beyond knowing anything, to know you are beyond knowing anything, that is when peace enters in, to the soul of the incurious seeker.

Light black. From pole to pole.

The sky sinks in the morning, this fact has been insufficiently observed.

Tears and laughter, they are so much Gaelic to me.

It is right that he too should have his little chronicle, his memories, his reason, and be able to recognize the good in the bad, the bad in the worst, and so grow gently old down all the unchanging days, and die one day like any other day, only shorter.

You are not satisfied unless form is so strictly divorced from content that you can comprehend the one without almost without bothering to read the other.