Where there is nothing, there is God.

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.

An aged man is but a paltry thing, a tattered coat upon a stick, unless soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing for every tatter in its mortal dress.

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.

A man in his own secret meditation / Is lost amid the labyrinth that he has made / In art or politics.

If soul my look and body touch, Which is the more blest?

You that would judge me, do not judge alone this book or that, come to this hallowed place where my friends' portraits hang and look thereon; Ireland's history in their lineaments trace; think where man's glory most begins and ends and say my glory was I had such friends.