I love you the more that I believe you have liked me for my own sake and for nothing else.
The most wonderful of all things in life, I believe, is the discovery of another human being with whom one's relationship has a glowing depth, beauty, and joy as the years increase. This inner progressiveness of love between two human beings is a most marvelous thing, it cannot be found by looking for it or by passionately wishing for it. It is a sort of Divine accident.
Sir Hugh Walpole
Mistakes are the portals of discovery.
Boredom is a sign of satisfied ignorance, blunted apprehension, crass sympathies, dull understanding, feeble powers of attention, and irreclaimable weakness of character.
To understand is to perceive patterns.
Sir Isaiah Berlin
We hear much of a decent pride, a becoming proud, a noble pride, a laudable pride. Can that be decent, of which we ought to be ashamed? Can that be becoming, of which God has set forth the deformity? Can that be noble which God resists and is determined to abase? Can that be laudable, which God call abominable.
Robert Cecil Day-Lewis
The glory of the king of all the kings.
You with the golden power on your brows,
You kings, I think you know not what you are.
First you shall learn yourselves: for neither light
Understandeth itself, nor darkness light.
Catholic Authors Biography by Joseph Pearce
First, I tell them what I am going to tell them, then I tell them, then I tell them what I told them.
At Quincy's moat the squandering village ends,
And there in the almshouse dwell the dearest friends
Of all the village, two old dames that cling
As close as any trueloves in the spring.
Edmund Charles Blunden
When Death to either shall come -- I pray it be first to me.
Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night.
O fat white woman whom nobody loves,
Why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
When the grass is soft as the breast of doves
And shivering-sweet to the touch?
O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
Missing so much and so much?
‘What is the world, O soldiers?
It is I,
I, this incessant snow,
This northern sky.
Walter de la Mare
For lust of knowing what should not be known, we take the Golden Road to Samarkand.