“All men live in suffering I know as few can know, Whether they take the upper road Or stay content on the low.”

Talent perceives differences; genius, unity.

We are closed in, and the key is turned / On our uncertainty.

People who lean on logic and philosophy and rational exposition end by starving the best part of the mind.

Take, if you must, this little bag of dreams, Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round.

From our birthday, until we die, Is but the winking of an eye.

And pluck till time and times are done the silver apples of the moon the golden apples of the sun.

I’m looking for the face I had, before the world was made.

Only that which does not teach, which does not cry out, which does not condescend, which does not explain, is irresistible.

Yet they that know all things but know That all this life can give us is, A child’s laughter, a woman’s kiss.

All dreams of the soul End in a beautiful man’s or woman’s body.

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

It is so many years before one can believe enough in what one feels even to know what the feeling is.

The Irishman sustains himself during brief periods of joy by the knowledge that tragedy is just around the corner.

God guard me from those thoughts men think In the mind alone.

Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.

Though leaves are many, the root is one.

If I be worthy, I live for my God to teach the heathen, even though they may despise me.

My concept of successful living is escaping the matrix.

So I live among barbarous tribes, a stranger and exile for the love of God.

If I have any worth, it is to live my life for God.

If I have any worth, it is to live my life for God so as to teach these peoples; even though some of them still look down on me.

The more necessary a thing is for living beings, the more easily it is found and the cheaper it is; the less necessary it is, the rarer and dearer it is.

By bourgeoisie is meant the class of modern capitalists, owners of the means of social production and employers of wage labor. By proletariat, the class of modern wage laborers who, having no means of production of their own, are reduced to selling their labor power in order to live.

Know, O beloved, that man was not created in jest or at random, but marvelously made and for some great end. Although he is not form everlasting, yet he lives for ever; and though his body is mean and earthly, yet his spirit is lofty and divine.