Flowers Really Do Intoxicate Me.

Prose Is A Poor Thing, A Poor Inadequate Thing, Compared With Poetry Which Says So Much More In Shorter Time.

I Suppose The Pleasure Of The Country Life Lies Really In The Eternally Renewed Evidences Of The Determination To Live. That Is A Truism When Said, But Anything But A Truism When Daily Observed. Nothing Shows Up The Difference Between The Thing Said Or Read, So Much As The Daily Experience Of It.

There Is Nothing More Lovely In Life Than The Union Of Two People Whose Love For One Another Has Grown Through The Years, From The Small Acorn Of Passion, Into A Great Rooted Tree

What Is Beautiful Is Good, And Who Is Good Will Soon Be Beautiful.

How Subtle Is The Relationship Between The Traveler And His Luggage! He Knows, As No One Else Knows, Its Idiosyncrasies, Its Contents ... And Always Some Small Nuisance Which He Wishes He Had Not Brought; Had Known, Indeed, Before Starting That He Would Regret It, But Brought It All The Same.