Each blade of grass has its spot on earth whence it draws its life, its strength; and so is man rooted to the land from which he draws his faith together with his life.
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Who knows what true loneliness is -- not the conventional word, but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion. Now and then a fatal conjunction of events may lift the veil for an instant. For an instant only. No human being could bear a steady view of moral solitude without going mad.
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An artist is a man of action, whether he creates a personality, invents an expedient, or finds the issue of a complicated situation.
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A man that is born falls into a dream like a man who falls into the sea. If he tries to climb out into the air as inexperienced people endeavor to do, he drowns.
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The sea has never been friendly to man. At most it has been the accomplice of human restlessness.
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Nations it may be have fashioned their Governments, but the Governments have paid them back in the same coin.
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History repeats itself, but the special call of an art which has passed away is never reproduced. It is as utterly gone out of the world as the song of a destroyed wild bird.
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Any work that aspires, however humbly, to the condition of art should carry its justification in every line.
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There is something haunting in the light of the moon; it has all the dispassionateness of a disembodied soul, and something of its inconceivable mystery.
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It is very difficult to be wholly joyous or wholly sad on this earth. The comic, when it is human, soon takes upon itself a face of pain; and some of our grieves... have their source in weaknesses which must be recognized with smiling compassion as the common inheritance of us all.
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As to honor -- you know -- it's a very fine mediaeval inheritance which women never got hold of. It wasn't theirs.
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