Ecstasy is from the contemplation of things vaster than the individual and imperfectly seen perhaps, by all those that still live.

Neither Christ nor Buddha nor Socrates wrote a book, for to do so is to exchange life for a logical process.

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.

Nor dread nor hope attend a dying animal; a man awaits his end dreading and hoping all.

Never to have lived is best, ancient writers say. Never to have drawn the breath of life, never to have looked into the eye of day; The second best's a gay goodnight and quickly turn away.

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

I call on those that call me son, Grandson, or great-grandson, On uncles, aunts, great-uncles or great-aunts, To judge what I have done. Have I, that put it into words, Spoilt what old loins have sent?