A wholesome oblivion of one’s neighbours is the beginning of wisdom.
Organized Christianity has probably done more to retard the ideals that were its founder’s than any other agency in the world.
It is curious how, from time immemorial, man seems to have associated the idea of evil with beauty, shrunk from it with a sort of ghostly fear, while, at the same time drawn to it by force of its hypnotic attraction.
The beauty we love is very silent. It smiles softly to itself, but never speaks.
Races and nations are thus ever ready to believe the worst of one another.
In their work, then, as in their play, men and women are more and more coming to share with each other as comrades, and really the fun of life seems in no wise diminished as a consequence.
All myths that are something more than fancies gain rather than lose in value with time, by reason of the accretions of human experience.
If Romeo and Juliet make a tragedy of it nowadays, they have only to blame their own mismanagement, for the world is with them as it has never been before, and all sensible fathers and mothers know it.
Modern science, then, so far from being an enemy of romance, is seen on every hand to be its sympathetic and resourceful friend, its swift and irresistible helper in its serious need, and an indulgent minister to its lighter fancies.
We also maintain – again with perfect truth – that mystery is more than half of beauty, the element of strangeness that stirs the senses through the imagination.