While We Are Young The Idea Of

What Is Life When You Come To Think Upon It, But A Most Excellent, Accurately Set, Infinitely Complicated Machine For Turning Fat Playful Puppies Into Old Mangy Blind Dogs, And Proud War Horses Into Skinny Nags, And Succulent Young Boys, To Whom The World Holds Great Delights And Terrors, Into Old Weak Men, With Running Eyes, Who Drink Ground Rhino-horn?

It Is Not The Visions But The Activity Which Makes You Happy, And The Joy And Glory Of The Flier Is The Flight Itself.

Some People Have An Unconquerable Love Of Riddles. They May Have The Chance Of Listening To Plain Sense, Or To Such Wisdom That Explains Life; But No, They Must Go And Work Their Brains Over A Riddle, Just Because They Do Not Understand What It Means.

It Is When One Begins To Lose The Consciousness Of Freedom, And When The Idea Of Necessity Enters The World At All, When There Is Any Hurry Or Strain Anywhere, A Letter To Be Written Or A Train To Catch, When You Have Got To Work, To Make The Horses Of The Dream Gallop, Or To Make The Rifles Go Off, That The Dream Is Declining, And Turning Into The Nightmare, Which Belongs To The Poorest And Most Vulgar Class Of Dreams.

The Real Difference Between God And Human Beings Is That God Cannot Stand Continence. No Sooner Has He Created A Season Of A Year, Or A Time Of Day, Than He Wishes For Something Quite Different And Sweeps It All Away. And Human Beings Cleave To The Existing State Of Things. All Their Lives They Are Striving To Hold The Moment Fast, And Are Up Against A Force Majeure. Their Art Itself Is Nothing But The Attempt To Catch By All Means The One Particular Moment, One Mood, One Light, The Momentary Beauty Of One Woman Or One Flower, And Make It Everlasting.