“I am a part of all that I have met;Yet all experience is an arch wherethroughGleams that untravelled world, whose margin fadesFor ever and for ever when I move.”

“I am part of all that I have met;Yet all experience is an arch wherethroughGleams that untravelled world, whose margin fadesFor ever and for ever when I move.How dull it is to pause, to make an end,To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!As though to breath were life. Life piled on lifeWere all too little, and of one to meLittle remains: but every hour is savedFrom that eternal silence, something more,A bringer of new things; and vile it wereFor some three suns to store and hoard myself,And this grey spirit yearning in desireTo follow knowledge like a sinking star,Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.”

“Yet all experience is an arch wherethroughGleams that untraveled world whose margin fadesForever and forever when I move.How dull it is to pause, to make an end,To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!As though to breathe were life!”

“I am a part of all that I have met.”

“In all my experience along the dirtiest ways of this dirty little world, I have never met with such a thing as a trifle yet.”

“All the geniuses I ever met were so just part of the time. To qualify, you only have to be great once, you know. Once when it matters.”