“There's a divinity that shapes beauty from our rough hewn lives.”

“There's a divinity that shapes our ends,Rough-hew them how we will.”

“She looked at land and thought flowers. He looked at land and thought cattle. She was liveried servants and ivy-covered stone. He was hard-living cowboys and rough-hewn timbers. Champagne and Forty Rod. The two didn’t mix.”

“Nobody likes a whistler, particularly not the divinity that shapes our ends.”

“We live like latecomers to the theater; we must catch up as best we can, divining the begging from the shape of later events.”

“But when the door shuts on us, all that vanishes. The shell–like covering which our souls have excreted to house themselves, to make for themselves a shape distinct from others, is broken, and there is left of all these wrinkles and roughnesses a central oyster of perceptiveness, an enormous eye. How beautiful a street is in winter!”