Happiness Lies In The Fulfillment Of The

Hemingway Is Great In That Alone Of Living Writers He Has Saturated His Work With The Memory Of Physical Pleasure, With Sunshine And Salt Water, With Food, Wine And Making Love And The Remorse Which Is The Shadow Of That Sun.

When I Write After Dark The Shades Of Evening Scatter Their Purple Through My Prose.

Green Leaves On A Dead Tree Is Our Epitaph-green Leaves, Dear Reader, On A Dead Tree.

Youth Is A Period Of Missed Opportunities.

What Grape To Keep Its Place In The Sun, Taught Our Ancestors To Make Wine?