“Except for the point, the still point, There would be no dance, and there is only the dance”

“The dripping blood our only drink,The bloody flesh our only food:In spite of which we like to thinkThat we are sound, substantial flesh and blood--Again, in spite of that, we call this Friday good.”

“I don't know much about gods, but I think the river is a strong, brown god”

“Do I dare Disturb the universe? In a minute there is time For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.”

“Do I dare Disturb the universe?”

“For I have known them all already, known them allHave known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.”

“We shall not cease from explorationAnd the end of all our exploringWill be to arrive where we startedAnd know the place for the first time.”

“Advice," Doa Vorchenza chuckled. "Advice. The years play a sort of alchemical trick, transmuting one's mutterings to a state of respectability. Give advice at forty and you're a nag. Give it at sev...”

“Given the choice between the experience of pain and nothing, I would choose pain.”

“Im not a woman you bring home to Mother, pick out china patterns with, or Mary forefend, breed. Ive seen a chunk of the universe, true, but theres still so much more to see. I doubt Ill ever cure t...”

“My hope, my heaven, my trust must be,My gentle guide, in following thee.”

“Amory took to writing poetry on spring afternoons, in the gardens of the big estates near Princeton, while swans made effective atmosphere in the artificial pools, and slow clouds sailed harmonious...”

“Though it may be interesting to know how many hairs there are on the human head, or how the giant red spot on the surface of Jupiter was formed, the real truths we are interested in are those about...”

“He found solace in what he wrote. It was an attempt to discover who he was at the moment.”

“I don't think everyone wants to create the great American novel, but we all have a dream of telling our stories-of realizing what we think, feel, and see before we die. Writing is a path to meet ou...”