Hope . . . Never

To Venerate The Simple Days Which Lead The Seasons By, Needs But To Remember That From You Or I They May Take The Trifle Termed Mortality!

I Have An Appetite For Silence.

A Deed Knocks First At Thought And Then - It Knocks At Will - That Is The Manufacturing Spot.

Existence Has Overpowered Books. Today I Slew A Mushroom.

A Letter Always Seemed To Me Like Immortality Because It Is The Mind Alone Without Corporeal Friend.