H. Rider Haggard

Yea, all things live forever, though at times they sleep and are forgotten.

As I grow older, I regret to say that a detestable habit of thinking seems to be getting a hold of me.

Ah! how little knowledge does a man acquire in his life. He gathers it up like water, but like water it runs between his fingers, and yet, if his hands be but wet as though with dew, behold a generation of fools call out, 'See, he is a wise man!' Is it not so?

Thinking can only serve to measure out the helplessness of thought.

There is no such things as magic, though there is such a thing as knowledge of the hidden ways of Nature.

It is a well-known fact that very often, putting the period of boyhood out of the argument, the older we grow the more cynical and hardened we become; indeed, many of us are only saved by timely death from moral petrification, if not from moral corruption.

Memory haunts me from age to age, and passion leads me by the hand--evil have I done, and with sorrow have I made acquaintance from age to age, and from age to age evil shall I do, and sorrow shall I know till my redemption comes.