There May Be Peace Without Joy, And

You Think That A Wall As Solid As The Earth Separates Civilization From Barbarism. I Tell You The Division Is A Thread, A Sheet Of Glass. A Touch Here, A Push There, And You Bring Back The Reign Of Saturn.

It Struck Me That Albania Was The Sort Of Place That Might Keep A Man From Yawning.

I Wondered Whether The Scientific Modern Brain Could Not Get To The Stage Of Realising That Space Is Not An Empty Homogeneous Medium, But Full Of Intricate Differences, Intelligible And Real, Though Not With Our Common Reality.

Pessimism Is The One Ism Which Kills The Soul.

The Book Trade Is A Spiritual Barometer Of A Nations Well-being.