We do not choose the day of our birth nor may we choose the day of our death, yet choice is the sovereign faculty of the mind.

Literature is the orchestration of platitudes.

You swore you loved me, and laughed and warned me that you would not love me forever. I did not hear you. You were speaking in a language I did not understand. Never, never, I can conceive of a love which is able to foresee its own termination. Love is its own eternity. Love is in every moment of its being: all time. It is the only glimpse we are permitted of what eternity is. So I did not hear you. The words were nonsense.

The unencumbered stage encourages the truth operative in everyone. The less seen, the more heard. The eye is the enemy of the ear in real drama.

The revival in religion will be a rhetorical problem - new persuasive words for defaced or degraded ones.

Throughout the hours of the night, though there had been few to hear it, the whole sky had been loud with the singing of these constellations.

Seek the lofty by reading, hearing and seeing great work at some moment every day.