O thou that pinest in the imprisonment of the Actual, and criest bitterly to the gods for a kingdom wherein to rule and create, know this for a truth: the thing thou seekest is already here, "here or nowhere," couldst thou only see.

"Love is not altogether a Delirium," says he elsewhere; "yet has it many points in common therewith."

A good book is the purest essence of a human soul.

So much of truth, only under an ancient obsolete vesture, but the spirit of it still true, do I find in the Paganism of old nations. Nature is still divine, the revelation of the workings of God; the Hero is still worshipable: this, under poor cramped incipient forms, is what all Pagan religions have struggled, as they could, to set forth.

Man is a tool-using animal. Without tools he is nothing, with tools he is all.

Originality is a thing we constantly clamour for, and constantly quarrel with.

The block of granite which was an obstacle in the pathway of the weak, became a stepping-stone in the pathway of the strong.