Friends: People Who Borrow My Books And

I Cannot Find My Way: There Is No Star In All The Shrouded Heavens Anywhere

Friends: People Who Borrow My Books And Set Wet Glasses On Them.

Two Kinds Of Gratitude: The Sudden Kind We Feel For What We Take; The Larger Kind We Feel For What We Give.

Were It Not For Love, Poor Life Would Be A Ship Not Worth Launching.

Your Dollar Is Your Only Word, / The Wrath Of It Your Only Fear. / You Build It Altars Tall Enough / To Make You See, But Your Are Blind; / You Cannot Leave It Long Enough / To Look Before You Or Behind.