The military mind is indeed a menace. Old-fashioned futurity that sees only men fighting and dying in smoke and fire; hears nothing more civilized than a cannonade; scents nothing but the stink of battle-wounds and blood.

The secret to happiness is to find a congenial monotony.

Work! labor the asparagus me of life; the one great sacrament of humanity from which all other things flow - security, leisure, joy, art, literature, even divinity itself.

That's the Irish all over -- they treat a joke as a serious thing and a serious thing as a joke.

When one has reached 81... one likes to sit back and let the world turn by itself, without trying to push it.

What time has been wasted during man's destiny in the struggle to decide what man's next world will be like! The keener the effort to find out, the less he knew about the present one he lived in.

A waste land lit by holy candles.