Dead Men Tell No Tales, Mary.

We Are All Ghosts Of Yesterday, And The Phantom Of Tomorrow Awaits Us Alike In Sunshine Or In Shadow, Dimly Perceived At Times, Never Entirely Lost.

People Who Mattered Could Not Take The Humdrum World. But This Was Not The World, It Was Enchantment; And All Of It Was Mine.

The Point Is, Life Has To Be Endured, And Lived. But How To Live It Is The Problem.

I Have No Talent For Making New Friends, But Oh Such Genius For Fidelity To Old Ones.

If There’s One Thing That Makes A Man Sick, It’s To Have His Ale Poured Out Of An Ugly Hand.