Sublime

He is in the clean and well-lit prison of one idea: he is sharpened to one painful point.

He is much too practical to be precise.

He feels that nothing is perfect unless it is personal.

Gilbert Keith Chesterton—that Catholic equivalent of Hotei, the “laughing Buddha”—who, though neither a great poet nor a great theologian, had the sort of bewitched imagination from which great poetry and theology can be made. He shone as an essayist and fantast, and of all his many essays the most profound and provoking was “On Nonsense,” the

Rupert Grant was a clever young fellow, but he had that tendency which youth and cleverness, when sharply combined, so often produce, a somewhat extravagant scepticism.

he is a poet in this real sense, that he has realised the meaning of every function he has performed.

The most important man on earth is the perfect man who is not there.

The command of Christ is impossible, but it is not insane; it is rather sanity preached to a planet of lunatics.