Rhyme, that enslaved queen, that supreme charm of our poetry, that creator of our meter.

It is ourselves we have to fear. Prejudice is the real robber, and vice the real murderer.

Nothing is so stifling as symmetry. Symmetry is boredom, the quintessence of mourning. Despair yawns. There is something more terrible than a hell of suffering - a hell of boredom.

It seems as though, at the approach of a certain dark hour, the light of heaven infills those who are leaving the light of earth.

Strong and bitter words indicate a weak cause.

Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.

Whenever we encounter the Infinite in man, however imperfectly understood, we treat it with respect. Whether in the synagogue, the mosque, the pagoda, or the wigwam, there is a hideous aspect which we execrate and a sublime aspect which we venerate. So great a subject for spiritual contemplation, such measureless dreaming - the echo of God on the human wall!