The Closing Years Of Life

The Only Joy In The World Is To Begin.

Death Is Repose, But The Thought Of Death Disturbs All Repose.

Traveling Is A Brutality. It Forces You To Trust Strangers And To Lose Sight Of All That Familiar Comfort Of Home And Friends

When Writing Poetry, It Is Not That Produces A Bright Idea, But The Bright Idea That Kindles The Fire Of.

You Cannot Insult A Man More Atrociously Than By Refusing To Believe He Is Suffering .