Mornings are mysteries; the first world's youth, Man's resurrection, and the future's bud Shroud in their births.

There is in God - some say - A deep, but dazzling darkness; as men here Say it is late and dusky, because they See not all clear. O for that Night! where I in Him Might live invisible and dim!

I saw Eternity the other night Like a great ring of pure and endless light, All calm as it was bright.

Dear beauteous death, the jewel of the just.

And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams Call to the soul when man doth sleep. So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted dreams, And into glory peep.

Death, and darkness get you packing, Nothing now to man is lacking, All your triumphs now are ended, And what Adam marred, is mended.

The skin and shell of things Though fair are not Thy wish nor prayer but got My meer despair of wings.

They are all gone into the world of light, and I alone sit lingering here.

The sun doth shake Light from his locks, and, all the way Breathing perfumes, doth spice the day.

Affliction is a mother, Whose painful throes yield many sons, Each fairer than the other.

Man is the shuttle, to whose winding quest And passage through these looms God ordered motion, but ordained no rest.

All things are inconstant except the faith in the soul, which changes all things and fills their inconstancy with light.

Maya (deceit) means that one cannot see the nature of things as they are but sees them in a different form.

To a great experience one thing is essential - an experiencing nature.

I'm sad to say that stardom is a commodity in our culture.

The process of discovering who we are and what we are here to do . . . is dependent . . . on our ability to stay positive and to find a silver lining in all events.

Pay attention even to life's trifles.

I see bits and pieces of me in all the characters in my films.

No one is infallible, and no one can claim a monopoly on truth or virtue. It would be contradictory for skepticism to seek to translate itself into a new faith.

What is the difference between grief and mourning? Mourning has company.

Wyman's overpopulated universe is in many ways unlovely. It offends the aesthetic sense of us who have a taste for desert landscapes.