And Yale Is November, Crisp And Energetic.

She Was Dazzling-- Alight; It Was Agony To Comprehend Her Beauty In A Glance.

So When The Blue Smoke Of Brittle Leaves Was In The Air And The Wind Blew The Wet Laundry Stiff On The Line I Decided To Come Back Home.

Experience Is Not Worth The Getting. It's Not A Thing That Happens Pleasantly To A Passive You--it's A Wall That An Active You Runs Up Against.

Every Author Ought To Write Every Book As If He Were Going To Be Beheaded The Day He Finished It.

Men She Knew'? - She Had Conceded Vaguely To Herself That All Men Who Had Ever Been In Love With Her Were Her Friends.