I exist as I am, that is enough.

A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.

The real war will never get in the books.

That the hands of the sisters Death and Night incessantly softly wash again and ever again, this soiled world.

When the materials are all prepared and ready, the architects shall appear.

The Americans, like the English, probably make love worse than any other race.

Why should I wish to see God better than this day? I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then, In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass; I find letters from God dropped in the street, and every one is signed by God's name, And I leave them where they are, for I know that others will punctually come forever and ever.