Fromage and coffee and cognac and no gods.

One cannot spend one's time in being modern when there are so many more important things to be.

Imagination is the will of things. . . .

The mind is smaller than the eye.

Perhaps there is a degree of perception at which what is real and what is imagines are one: a state of clairvoyant observation, accessible or possibly accessible to the poet or, say, the acutest poet.

Unfortunately there is nothing more inane than an Easter carol. It is a religious perversion of the activity of Spring in our blood.

God is gracious to some very peculiar people.