[describing His House:] It Is

The Renaissance Had Resulted In The Emancipation Of The Individual, In Making Him Feel That The Universe Had No Other Purpose Than His Happiness. This Brought An Entirely New Answer To The Question, 'why Should I Do This Or That?' It Used To Be, 'because Self-instituted Authority Command You.' The Answer Now Was, 'because It Is Good For Men.' In This Lies Our Greatest Debt To The Renaissance, That It Instituted The Welfare Of Men As The End Of All Action.

It Was A Morning In Early Summer. A Silver Haze Shimmered And Trembled Over The Lime Trees. The Air Was Laden With Their Fragrance. The Temperature Was Like A Caress. I Remember - I Need Not Recall - That I Climbed Up A Tree Stump And Felt Suddenly Immersed In Itness. I Did Not Call It By That Name. I Had No Need For Words. It And I Were One.

[describing His House:] It Is A Library With Living Rooms Attached.

Government Is The Art Of The Momentary Feasible, Of The Least Bad Attainable, And Not Of The Rationally Most Desirable.

Who Will Free Me From Hurry, Flurry, The Feeling Of A Crowd Pushing Behind Me, Of Being Hustled And Crushed? How Can I Regain Even For A Minute The Feeling Of Ample Leisure I Had During My Early, My Creative Years? Then I Seldom Felt Fussed, Or Hurried. There Was Time For Work, For Play, For Love, The Confidence That If A Task Was Not Done At The Appointed Time, I Easily Could Fit It Into Another Hour. I Used To Take Leisure For Granted, As I Did Time Itself.