I Have Lived To See That Being

I Think That Travel Comes From Some Deep Urge To See The World, Like The Urge That Brings Up A Worm In An Irish Bog To See The Moon When It Is Full.

Come With Me, Ladies And Gentlemen Who Are In Any Wise Weary Of London: Come With Me: And Those That Tire At All Of The World We Know: For We Have New Worlds Here.

If One Who Looked From A Tower For A New Star, Watching For Years The Same Part Of The Sky, Suddenly Saw It (quite By Chance While Thinking Of Other Things), And Knew It For The Star For Which He Had Hoped, How Many Millions Of Men Would Never Care?

Bricks Without Straw Are More Easily Made Than Imagination Without Memories.

Of Pure Poetry There Are Two Kinds, That Which Mirrors The Beauty Of The World In Which Our Bodies Are, And That Which Builds The More Mysterious Kingdoms Where Geography Ends And Fairyland Begins, With Gods And Heroes At War, And The Sirens Singing Still, And Alph Going Down To The Darkness From Xanadu.