Poetry is the language of a state of crisis.
After us the deluge.
The wise man does not expose himself needlessly to danger, since there are few things for which he cares sufficiently; but he is willing, in great crises, to give even his life – knowing that under certain conditions it is not worth-while to live.
Seeds of faith are always within us; sometimes it takes a crisis to nourish and encourage their growth.
Crises refine life. In them you discover what you are.
The crisis of today is the joke of tomorrow.
Any idiot can face a crisis – it is the day to day living that wears one out.
As we wake or sleep, we grow strong or we grow weak, and at last some crisis shows us what we have become.
Man is not imprisoned by habit. Great changes in him can be wrought by crisis – once that crisis can be recognized and understood.
Things fall apart; the center cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.