I stood checked for a moment - awe, not fear, fell upon me - and whist I stood, a solemn wind began to blow, the most mournful that ever ear heard. Mournful! That is saying nothing. It was a wind that had swept the fields of mortality for a hundred centuries.

I feel that there is no such thing as ultimate forgetting; traces once impressed upon the memory are indestructible.

Grief even in a child hates the light and shrinks from human eyes.

War has a deeper and more ineffable relation to hidden grandeurs in man than has yet been deciphered.

All men come into this world alone and leave it alone.

Solitude, though it may be silent as light, is like light, the mightiest of agencies; for solitude is essential to man. All men come into this world alone and leave it alone.

All that is literature seeks to communicate power