Time has no divisions to mark its passage, there is never a thunder-storm or blare of trumpets to announce the beginning of a new month or year. Even when a new century begins it is only we mortals who ring bells and fire off pistols.

He thought what a fine thing it was that people made music all over the world, even in the strangest settings – probably even on polar expeditions.

A lonely, quiet person has observations and experiences that are at once both more indistinct and more penetrating than those of one more gregarious; his thoughts are weightier, stranger, and never without a tinge of sadness. . . . Loneliness fosters that which is original, daringly and bewilderingly beautiful, poetic. But loneliness also fosters that which is perverse, incongruous, absurd, forbidden.

We don't love qualities, we love persons; sometimes by reason of their defects as well as of their qualities.

Has the world ever been changed by anything save the thought and its magic vehicle the Word?

…What our age needs, what it demands, what it will create for itself, is—terror.

A solitary, unused to speaking of what he sees and feels, has mental experiences which are at once more intense and less articulate than those of a gregarious man.