One Detects Creative Power By Its Capacity

The Ocean, Under The Pulsation Of Lighthouses And Noise Of Bell Buoys, Advances As Usual, Looking As If It Were Not That Ocean In Which Dropped Things Are Bound To Sink-- In Which If They Turn And Twist, It Is Neither With Volition Nor Consciousness.

The Mind Is An Enchanting Thing.

You Are Not Male Nor Female, But A Plan Deep-set Within The Heart Of Man.

Hindered Characters / Seldom Have Mothers / In Irish Stories, But They All Have Grandmothers.

It Is Human Nature To Stand In The Middle Of A Thing.