All empty souls tend toward extreme opinions.

Hope and Memory have one daughter and her name is Art, and she has built her dwelling far from the desperate field where men hang out their garments upon forked boughs to be banners of battle. O beloved daughter of Hope and Memory, be with me for a while.

Florence Farr once said to me, If we could say to ourselves, with sincerity, 'this passing moment is as good as any I shall ever know,' we could die upon the instant and be united with God.

What man does not understand, he fears; and what he fears, he tends to destroy.

I have drunk ale from the Country of the Young / And weep because I know all things now.

All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart, The heavy steps of the plowman, splashing the wintry mold, Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.

I am still of opinion that only two topics can be of the least interest to a serious and studious mood - sex and the dead.