My mind turned by anxiety, or other cause, from its scrutiny of blank paper, is like a lost child�wandering the house, sitting on the bottom step to cry.

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Let us record the atoms as they fall upon the mind in the order in which they fall, let us trace the pattern, however disconnected and incoherent in appearance, which each sight or incident scores upon the consciousness. Let us not take it for granted that life exists more fully in what is commonly thought big than in what is commonly thought small.

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But nevertheless, the fact remained, it was almost impossible to dislike anyone if one looked at them.

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The most important thing is not to think very much about oneself. To investigate candidly the charge; but not fussily, not very anxiously. On no account to retaliate by going to the other extreme - thinking too much.

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Our apparitions, the things you know us by, are simply childish. Beneath it is all dark, it is all spreading, it is unfathomably deep; but now and again we rise to the surface and that is what you see us by.

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Marvelous are the innocent.

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There is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.

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Anyone who's worth anything reads just what he likes, as the mood takes him, and with extravagant enthusiasm.

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For while directly we say that it [the length of human life] is ages long, we are reminded that it is briefer than the fall of a rose leaf to the ground.

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I like books whose virtue is all drawn together in a page or two. I like sentences that don't budge though armies cross them.

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