Life and Existence

Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,

Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,

From the contagion of the world’s slow stain

He has out-soared the shadow of our night.

Winter is come and gone,

Alas! that all we loved of him should be,

I weep for Adonais—he is dead!

The cemetery is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death, to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.

The younger generation is knocking at the door, and as I open it there steps spritely in the incomparable Max.

Must then a Christ perish in torment in every age to save those that have no imagination?

There is only one religion, though there are a hundred versions of it.

The secret of being miserable is to have leisure to bother about whether you are happy or not. The cure for it is occupation.

Youth, which is forgiven everything, forgives itself nothing: age, which forgives itself everything, is forgiven nothing.

Youth, which is forgiven everything, forgives itself nothing: age, which forgives itself everything, is forgiven nothing.

The reasonable man adapts himself to the world: the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.

Beware of the man whose god is in the skies.

Marriage is popular because it combines the maximum of temptation with the maximum of opportunity.

An Englishman thinks he is moral when he is only uncomfortable.

His life was gentle, and the elements

There is a tide in the affairs of men,

Cowards die many times before their deaths;

When beggars die, there are no comets seen;

Let’s carve him as a dish fit for the gods,

’Tis very like: he hath the falling sickness.