Contrast Is The Dramatist's Method.

Yet In The Blood Of Man There Is A Tide, An Old Sea-current, Rather, That Is Somehow Akin To The Twilight, Which Brings Him Rumours Of Beauty From However Far Away, As Drift-wood Is Found At Sea From Islands Not Yet Discovered; And This Spring-tide Or Current That Visits The Blood Of Man Comes From The Fabulous Quarter Of His Lineage, From The Legendary, Of Old; It Takes Him Out To The Woodlands, Out To The Hills; He Listens To Ancient Song.

A Man Is A Very Small Thing, And The Night Is Very Large And Full Of Wonders.

Everyone's Future Is, In Reality, Uncertain And Full Of Unknown Treasures From Which All May Draw Unguessed Prizes.

I Have Lived To See That Being Seventeen Is No Protection Against Becoming Seventy, But To Know This Needs The Experience Of A Lifetime, For No Imagination Copes With It.

Come With Me, Ladies And Gentlemen Who Are In Any Wise Weary Of London: Come With Me: And Those That Tire At All Of The World We Know: For We Have New Worlds Here.