The night can sweat with terror as before We pieced our thoughts into philosophy, And planned to bring the world under a rule, Who are but weasels fighting in a hole.

By logic and reason we die hourly; by imagination we live.

We only believe in those thoughts which have been conceived not in the brain but in the whole body.

Why should we honour those that die upon the field of battle? A man may show as reckless a courage in entering into the abyss of himself.

The brawling of a sparrow in the eaves The brilliant moon and all the milky sky And all that famous harmony of leaves Had blotted out man's image and his cry.

Choose your companions from the best; Who draws a bucket with the rest soon topples down the hill.

I agree about Shaw - he is haunted by the mystery he flouts. He is an atheist who trembles in the haunted corridor.