I Am Simply A Book Drunkard.

You Were Never Poor As Long As You Had Something To Love.

Without Shedding Of Blood There Is No Anything. Everything, It Seems To Me, Has To Be Purchased By Selfsacrifice. Our Race Has Marked Every Step Of Its Painful Ascent With Blood. And Now Torrents Of It Must Flow Again.

That's One Of The Things We Learn As We Grow Older -- How To Forgive. It Comes Easier At Forty Than It Did At Twenty.

Life, Deal Gently With Her ... Love, Never Desert Her

…the Lake Of Shining Waters Was Blue — Blue — Blue; Not The Changeful Blue Of Spring, Nor The Pale Azure Of Summer, But A Clear, Steadfast, Serene Blue, As If The Water Were Past All Modes And Tenses Of Emotion And Had Settled Down To A Tranquillity Unbroken By Fickle Dreams.