That meddling in other people's affairs...formerly conducted by the most discreet intrigue is now openly advocated under the name of intervention.

At the violet hour, when the eyes and back Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits Like a taxi throbbing waiting I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives.

The Nobel is a ticket to one's own funeral. No one has ever done anything after he got it.

There are flood and drought over the eyes and in the mouth, dead water and dead sand contending for the upper hand. The parched eviscerate soil gapes at the vanity of toil, laughs without mirth. This is the death of the earth.

The True Church can never fail. For it is based upon a rock.

The fool,fixed in his folly,may think He can turn the wheel on which he turns.

And the end and the beginning were always there Before the beginning and after the end.