If We Tried To Sink The Past

You're Something Between A Dream And A Miracle.

Of Writing Many Books There Is No End; And I Who Have Written Much In Prose And Verse For Others' Uses, Will Write Now For Mine,- Will Write My Story For My Better Self, As When You Paint Your Portrait For A Friend, Who Keeps It In A Drawer And Looks At It Long After He Has Ceased To Love You, Just To Hold Together What He Was And Is.

A Great Man Leaves Clean Work Behind Him, And Requires No Sweeper Up Of The Chips.

Quick-loving Hearts ... May Quickly Loathe.

God's Gifts Put Man's Best Dreams To Shame.