“and what is writ, is writ,Would it were worthier! but I am not nowThat which I have been”

“...think I none so simple would say that Aesop lied in the tales of his beasts: for who thinks that Aesop writ it for actually true were well worthy to have his name chronicled among the beasts he writeth of.”

“All law is writ in a seed.”

“I prefer my history dead. Dead history is writ in ink, the living sort in blood.”

“There are some who believe that the mind is a blank tablet, on which experience is writ until the page be full, and the cryptic world is known; but I see rather that my own life hath been one long forgetting, the erasure of what was drawn, a terrible redaction; til all that remains is blank white and comfortless.I know not what we have been; I know not what we are; but I know what we might be.And so I light out for the unknown regions.”

“My life was writ in red, in blood and wine.”