“It was this mystery, bereft now of all fear, and this beauty together that made life the endless, changing and yet changeless, thing it was. And yet mystery and loveliness alike were really only appreciable with one's legs, as it were, dangling down over into the grave.”

“Fancies were all very well for a change, but must be only occasional guests in a world devoted to reality.”

“Now that cleverness was the fashion most people were clever – even perfect fools; and cleverness after all was often only a bore: all head and no body.”

“AwayThere is no sorrowTime heals never;No loss, betrayal,Beyond repair.Balm for the soul, then,Though grave shall severLover from lovedAnd all they share.See the sweet sun shinesThe shower is over;Flowers preen their beauty,The day how fair!Brood not too closelyOn love, on duty;Friends long forgotten May wait you whereLife with death Brings all to an issue;None will long mourn for you,Pray for you, miss you,Your place left vacant,You not there.”

“Lear, Macbeth. Mercutio – they live on their own as it were. The newspapers are full of them, if we were only the Shakespeares to see it. Have you ever been in a Police Court? Have you ever watched tradesmen behind their counters? My soul, the secrets walking in the streets! You jostle them at every corner. There's a Polonius in every first-class railway carriage, and as many Juliets as there are boarding-schools. ... How inexhaustibly rich everything is, if you only stick to life.”

“Marvellous happy it was to beAlone, and yet not solitary.O out of terror and dark, to comeIn sight of home.”

“After all, what is every man? A horde of ghosts – like a Chinese nest of boxes – oaks that were acorns that were oaks. Death lies behind us, not in front – in our ancestors, back and back until...”