Truth is the torch that gleams through the fog without dispelling it.
Even now I remember those pictures, like pictures in a storybook one loved as a child. Radiant meadows, mountains vaporous in the trembling distance; leaves ankle-deep on a gusty autumn road; bonfires...
LONDON. Michaelmas Term lately over, and the Lord Chancellor sitting in Lincoln’s Inn Hall. Implacable November weather. As much mud in the streets as if the waters had but newly retired from the face...
When the rush of the weak sweeps over those that strive to be strong, its destruction. The commonplaces of moral judgment become fogged with the lack of perception stained with the sting of longing. T...
I could be the ceaseless mist that fogs your colourless eyes when you're lost in your universes.
Night is brushed aside like so much cobweb. The day is wound up and begins even before the last haunted dreams, the last of the fog, those spectral and evanescent residues, have faded away.
Nebulat ergo cogito.
I do so much music that it's like a fog, and I can't even remember all of it.
Night-time is being brushed aside like so much cobweb. The day is wound up and begins even before the last haunted dreams, the last of the fog, those spectral and evanescent residues, have faded away.
One day many years ago a man walked along and stood in the sound of the ocean on a cold sunless shore and said, We need a voice to call across the water, to warn ships; I'll make one. I'll make a voic...
You can walk in a dream while you are awake: Just walk in the misty morning of a forest!
