I Love Words; They Are The Quoits,

How Could A Man Be Satisfied With A Decision Between Such Alternatives And Under Such Circumstances No More Than He Can Be Satisfied With His Hat, Which He's Chosen From Among Such Shapes As The Resources Of The Age Offer Him. . . .

A Blush Is No Language; Only A Dubious Flag - Signal Which May Mean Either Of Two Contradictories

O The Anguish Of That Thought That We Can Never Atone To Our Dead For The Stinted Affection We Gave Them, For The Light Answers We Returned To Their Plaints Or Their Pleadings, For The Little Reverence We Showed To That Sacred Human Soul That Lived So Close To Us, And Was The Divinest Thing God Had Given Us To Know!

Men Outlive Their Love, But They Don’t Outlive The Consequences Of Their Recklessness.

I Think Cheerfulness Is A Fortune In Itself.