The visible world is no longer a reality and the unseen world no longer a dream.

Life is a long preparation for something that never happens.

The tragedy of sexual intercourse is the perpetual virginity of the soul.

Hammer your thoughts into unity.

Whence had they come The hand and lash that beat down frigid Rome? What sacred drama through her body heaved When world-transforming Charlemagne was conceived?

The woods of Arcady are dead, And over is their antique joy; Of old the world on dreaming fed Gray Truth is now her painted toy.

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