He Laughed Like An Irresponsible Foetus.

No Poet, No Artist Of Any Art, Has His Complete Meaning Alone.

At The Violet Hour, When The Eyes And Back Turn Upward From The Desk, When The Human Engine Waits Like A Taxi Throbbing Waiting I Tiresias, Though Blind, Throbbing Between Two Lives.

A Philosophy Can And Must Be Worked Out With The Greatest Rigour And Discipline In The Details, But Can Ultimately Be Founded On Nothing But Faith: And This Is The Reason, I Suspect, Why The Novelties In Philosophy Are Only In Elaboration, And Never In Fundamentals.

In The Last Few Years Everything I'd Done Up To Sixty Or So Has Seemed Very Childish.

I Believe The Moment Of Birth Is When We Have Knowledge Of Death I Believe The Season Of Birth Is The Season Of Sacrifice.