Between the desire And the spasm, Between the potency And the existence, Between the essence And the descent, Falls the Shadow.

A philosophy can and must be worked out with the greatest rigour and discipline in the details, but can ultimately be founded on nothing but faith: and this is the reason, I suspect, why the novelties in philosophy are only in elaboration, and never in fundamentals.

Hurry up, please, its time.

Between the conception and the creation, between the emotion and the response, Falls the shadow.

Paint me the bold anfractuous rocks Faced by the snarled and yelping seas.

I am moved by fancies that are curled, around these images and cling, the notion of some infinitely gentle, infinitely suffering thing.

It's strange that words are so inadequate. Yet, like the asthmatic struggling for breath, so the lover must struggle for words.