... Let the cage bird and the cage bird mate and the wild bird mate in the wild.
We taste and feel and see the truth. We do not reason ourselves into it.
An intellectual hatred is the worst.
Nothing that we love overmuch Is ponderable to our touch.
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.
Everything exists, everything is true and the earth is just a bit of dust beneath our feet.