How but in custom and in ceremony are innocence and beauty born?

That beautiful mild woman for whose sake There's many a one shall find out all heartache On finding that her voice is sweet and low Replied, 'To be born a woman is to know- Although they do not talk of it at school - That we must labor to be beautiful.

Let us go forth, the tellers of tales, and seize whatever prey the heart long for, and have no fear. Everything exists, everything is true, and the earth is only a little dust under our feet.

I think all happiness depends on the energy to assume the mask of some other life, on a re-birth as something not one's self.

What's memory but the ash That chokes our fires that have begun to sink?

The Irishman sustains himself during brief periods of joy by the knowledge that tragedy is just around the corner.

Before me floats an image, man or shade, / Shade more than man, more image than a shade.