I Haven't Much Opinion Of

It Is Lovely, When I Forget All Birthdays, Including My Own, To Find That Somebody Remembers Me.

What Happens Is Not As Important As How You React To What Happens.

Nothingis So Ungrateful As A Rising Generation; Yet, If There Is Any Faintest Glimmer Of Light Ahead Of Us In The Present, Itwas Kindled By The Intellectual Fires That Burned Long Before Us.

Energy Had Fastened Upon Her Like A Disease.

It Seems To Me That This Is The True Test For Poetry: - That It Should Go Beneath Experience, As Prose Can Never Do, And Awaken An Apprehension Of Things We Have Never, And Can Never, Know In The Actuality.