“But time in only another liar, so go along the wall a little further: if blackberries prove bitter there'll be mushrooms, fairy-ring mushrooms in the grass, sweetest of all fungi.”

“I think these days when there is so little to believe in——when the old loyalties——God, country, and the hope of Heaven——aren't very real, we are more dependent than we should be on our friends. The only thing left to believe in——someone who seems beautiful.”

“Time is a storm in which we are all lost.”

“Lifeless in appearance, sluggishdazed spring approaches-They enter the new world naked,cold, uncertain of allsave that they enter. All about themthe cold, familiar wind-Now the grass, tomorrowthe stiff curl of wildcarrot leafOne by one objects are defined-It quickens: clarity, outline of leafBut now the stark dignity ofentrance-Still, the profound changehas come upon them: rooted, theygrip down and begin to awaken”

“There is no thing that with a twist of the imagination cannot be something else. Porpoises risen in a green sea, the wind at nightfall bending the rose- red grasses and you- in your apron hurrying to catch- say it seems to you to be your son. How ridiculous! You will pass up into a cloud and look back at me, not count the scribbling foolish that put wings at your heels, at your knees.”

“At our age the imagination across the sorry facts lifts usto make roses stand before thorns. Surelove is cruel and selfish and totally obtuse—at least, blinded by the light, young love is. But we are older,I to love and you to be loved, we have,no matter how, by our wills survived to keepthe jeweled prize always at our finger tips.We will it so and so it is past all accident.”

“The only realism in art is of the imagination.”