“Everyone is born a king; some people die in exile”

“People die of common sense”

“The silver trumpets rang across the Dome;The people knelt upon the ground with awe;And borne upon the necks of men I saw,Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head;In splendour and in light the Pope passed home.My heart stole back across wide wastes of yearsTo One who wandered by a lonely sea;And sought in vain for any place of rest:“Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest,I, only I, must wander wearily,And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.”

“He read of the Obelisk in the Place de la Concorde that weeps tears of granite in its lonely sunless exile and longs to be back by the hot, lotus-covered Nile.”

“Christ did not die to save people, but to teach people how to save each other. This is, I have no doubt, a grave heresy, but it is also a fact.”

“As I lounged in the Park, or strolled down Piccadilly, I used to look at everyone who passed me, and wonder, with mad curiosity, what sort of lives they led. some of them fascinated me. Others filled me with terror.”

“Genius is born, not paid.”