There Are Two Futures, The

One Can Repent Even Of Having Repented.

Not What Man Knows But What Man Feels, Concerns Art. All Else Is Science.

I Walk In The Garden, I Look At The Flowers And Shrubs And Trees And Discover In Them An Exquisiteness Of Contour, A Vitality Of Edge, Or A Vigour Of Spring, As Well As An Infinite Variety Of Colour That No Artefact I Have Seen In The Last Sixty Years Can Rival...each Day, As I Look, I Wonder Where My Eyes Were Yesterday.

There Are Two Futures, The Future Of Desire And The Future Of Fate, And Man's Reason Has Never Learnt To Separate Them.

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