Art Is Magic, Not Logic.

What Is The Special Privilege Of Youth? It Is, I Think, The Power Of Looking Forward, The Firm Belief That The Future Holds Something That Is Worth Possessing, And That, Therefore, One Can Let The Present Moment Drop From One Without Regret And Without Fear.

I Have Taken This Step Because I Want The Discipline, The Fire And The Authority Of The Church. I Am Hopelessly Unworthy Of It, But I Hope To Become Worthy.

When We Think Of Cruelty, We Must Try To Remember The Stupidity, The Envy, The Frustration From Which It Has Arisen.

By The Time I Was Eleven Years Old, I Had Been Taught That Nature, Far From Abhorring A Vacuum, Positively Adores It.

Winter Is The Time For Comfort, For Good Food And Warmth, For The Touch Of A Friendly Hand And For A Talk Beside The Fire: It Is The Time For Home. It Is No Season In Which To Wander The World As If One Were The Wind Blowing Aimlessly Along The Streets Without A Place To Rest, Without Food, And Without Time Meaning Anything To One, Just As Time Means Nothing To The Wind.