God save the pennon, ragged to the dawn, That signs to moon to stand, and sun to fly; And flutters when the weak is overborne To stem the tide of fate and certainty. That knows not reason, and that seeks no fame - So! Undismayed beneath the serried clouds, Raise up the banner of forlorn defence - A jest to the complacency of crowds - Bright-haloed wie the one diviner sense: To hold itself as nothing to itself; And in the quest of its imagined star To lose all thought of after-recompense!

Come! Let us lay a lance in rest, And tilt at windmills under a wild sky! For who would live so petty and unblest That dare not tilt at something ere he die; R…

The beginnings and endings of all human undertakings are untidy, the building of a house, the writing of a novel, the demolition of a bridge, and, eminently, t…

I sat, just watching the moon creep up, and hearing the thin, dry rustle of the leaves along the holly hedge. And there came to me this thought: What is this U…

Here, then, is what I wanted to tell you of my architecture. I created it with courage and idealism, but also with an awareness of the fact that what is import…

O world, thou choosest not the better part! It is not wisdom to be only wise, And on the inward vision close the eyes, But it is wisdom to believe the heart. C…

They knew they were pilgrims.