Man passes away; his name perishes from record and recollection; his history is as a tale that is told, and his very monument becomes a ruin.

We live between two worlds; we soar in the atmosphere; we creep upon the soil; we have the aspirations of creators and the propensities of quadrupeds. There can be but one explanation of this fact. We are passing from the animal into a higher form, and the drama of this planet is in its second act.

And yet what good were yesterday's devotions? I affirm and then at midnight the great cat leaps quickly from the fireside and is gone.

Say next to holiness is the will thereto, and next to love is the desire for love, the desire for its celestial ease in the heart, which nothing can frustrate, that most secure, unlike love in possession of that which was to be possessed and is.

A work of art has no importance whatever to society. It is only important to the individual, and only the individual reader is important to me.

Mnemosyne, one must admit, has shown herself to be a very careless girl.

It is not love that should be depicted as blind, but self-love.

Could loving, as people called it, make her and Mrs. Ramsay one? for it was not knowledge but unity that she desired, not inscription on tablets, nothing that could be written in any language known to men, but intimacy itself, which is knowledge, she had thought, leaning her head on Mrs. Ramsay's knee.

They all dreamt of each other that night, as was natural, considering how thin the partitions were between them, and how strangely they had been lifted off the earth to sit next each other in mid-ocean, and see every detail of eachothers' faces, and hear whatever they chanced to say.

After all, man is that being who has invented the gas chambers of Auschwitz; however, he is also that being who has entered those gas chambers upright, with the Lord's Prayer or Shema Yisrael on his lips.

For the meaning of life differs from man to man, from day to day and from hour to hour. What matters, therefore, is not the meaning of life in general but rather the specific meaning of a person's life at a given moment.

It is better to travel well than to arrive.

The whole purport of literature... is the notation of the heart. Style is but the faintly contemptible vessel in which the bitter liquid is recommended to the world.

Yes. Now you know. Now you know. That's what it was to be alive, to move about in a cloud of ignorance, to go up and down trampling on the feelings of those-- of those about you, to spend and waste time as if you had a million years, to be always at the mercy of one self-centered passion or another. Now you know, that's the 'happy' existence you wanted to go back to. Ignorance and blindness.

And for an entrance to my entertainment I do present you with a man of mine, cunning in music and the mathematics, to instruct her fully in those sciences, whereof I know she is not ignorant. Taming of the Shrew, Act ii, Scene i

But men are men; the best sometimes forget. Othello the Moor of Venice (Iago at II, iii)

No particular results then, so far, but only an attitude of orientation, is what the pragmatic method means. The attitude of looking away from first things, principles, 'categories,' supposed necessities; and of looking towards last things, fruits, consequences, facts.

He that is endeavoring to subdue, and root out of his mind, all those passions of pride, envy and ambition, which religion opposes, is doing more to make himself happy, even in this life than he that is contriving means to indulge them.

Now does he feel his title hang loose about him like a giant's robe upon a dwarfish thief.