The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark.

Whenever you see a board up with "Trespassers will be prosecuted," trespass at once.

I feel that I have had a blow; but it is not, as I thought as a child, simply a blow from an enemy hidden behind the cotton wool of daily life; it is or will become a revelation of some order; it is a token of some real thing behind appearances; and I make it real by putting it into words. It is only by putting it into words that I make it whole; this wholeness means that it has lost its power to hurt me; it gives me, perhaps because by doing so I take away the pain, a great delight to put the severed parts together.

I am volatile for one, rigid for another, angular as an icicle in silver, or voluptuous as a candle flame in gold.

How many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn’t pull the trigger?

For it is probable that when people talk aloud, the selves (of which there may be more than two thousand) are conscious of disserverment, and are trying to communicate but when communication is established there is nothing more to be said.

Nothing thicker than a knife's blade separates happiness from melancholy.