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"What would we be lookin' for?" [the Sergeant] demanded, reasonably.

(Here Lord Peter Wimsey told the Sergeant what he was to look for and why, but as the intelligent reader will readily supply these details for himself, they are omitted from this page.)

— The Five Red Herrings by Dorothy L. Sayers (Lord Peter Wimsey, #7) (Page 20)

English teaching at school is, unfortunately, obsessed with what a poet thought, as though that were of interest to anyone. Rather than being taught about how a poem is phrased, schoolchildren are asked to write essays on what William Blake thought about the Tiger; despite the fact that William Blake was a nutjob whose opinions, in a civilised society, would be of no interest to anyone apart from his parole officer. A poet is not somebody who has great thoughts. That is the menial duty of the philosopher. A poet is somebody who expresses his thoughts, however commonplace they may be, exquisitely. That is the one and only difference between the poet and everybody else.

— The Elements of Eloquence by Mark Forsyth (Page 5 - 6)

[R]omanticism is not a literary school belonging to a phase in the evolution of taste but one of the permanent propensities of the human soul.

— The Journal of Joy by Nicolae Steinhardt (Page 31)

In 439 the historian Socrates ended his seven books with the pious wish that peace continue to reign amid the flourishing conditions in which the Church found itself, ”for as long as peace continues, those who desire to write histories will find no materials for their purpose.“

— The First Seven Ecumenical Councils (325–787) by Leo Donald Davis (Theology and Life, #21) (Page 170)

"But, however entrancing it is to wander unchecked through a garden of bright images, are we not enticing your mind from another subject of almost equal importance? It seems probable—"

"And if you can quote Kai Lung, we should certainly get on together."

— Strong Poison by Dorothy L. Sayers (Lord Peter Wimsey, #5) (Page 49)

You can refrain from sinning out of fear. It is an inferior step, but good in its own way. Or out of love: the way saints and people of superior character do. But also out of shame. A terrible shame, like one at having done unseemly things in front of a delicate person, at having cast an ugly word at an old woman, at having cheated someone who trusts you. After you have known Christ, it becomes hard to sin; you are terribly ashamed.

— The Journal of Joy by Nicolae Steinhardt (Page 24)