Words, As Is Well Known,

I Remember My Youth And The Feeling That Will Never Come Back Any More

Youth Is Insolent; It Is Its Right - Its Necessity; It Has Got To Assert Itself, And All Assertion In This World Of Doubts Is A Defiance, Is An Insolence.

I Suppose Everybody Must Be Always Just A Little Homesick.

You Know I Hate, Detest, And Can't Bear A Lie, Not Because I Am Straighter Than The Rest Of Us, But Simply Because It Appals Me. There Is A Taint Of Death, A Flavour Of Mortality In Lies - Which Is Exactly What I Hate And Detest In The World - What I Want To Forget.

The Humblest Craft That Floats Makes Its Appeal To A Seaman By The Faithfulness Of Her Life.