But The More Poetry One Reads The

All The Wild Sweetness Of The Flower Tangled Against The Wall. It Was That Magic, Silent Hour.... The Branches Grew So Tall They Twined Themselves Into A Bower. The Sun Shown ... And The Fall Of Yellow Blossom On The Grass! You Feel That Golden Rain? Both Of You Could Not Hold, Alas, (both Of You Tried, In Vain) A Memory, Stranger. So I Pass.... It Will Not Come Again.

Make It A Rule Of Life Never To Regret And Never To Look Back.

I Always Felt That The Great High Privilege, Relief And Comfort Of Friendship Was That One Had To Explain Nothing.

The Truth Is That Every True Admirer Of The Novels Cherishes The Happy Thought That He Alone - Reading Between The Lines - Has Bcome The Secret Friend Of Their Author.

In The Woods Where Snow Is Thick, Bars Of Sunlight Lay Like Pale Fire.