In My Opinion, Too Much Attention To

The Child In Us Is Always There, You Know, And It's The Best Part Of Us, The Winged Part That Travels Farthest.

For She Had Discovered That As Well As The Evil Web There Was Another. This Too Bound Spirits Together, But Not In A Tangle, It Was A Patterned Web And One Could See The Silver Pattern When The Sun Shone Upon It. It Seemed Much Frailer Than The Dark Tangle, That Had A Hideous Strength, But It Might Not Be So Always, Not In The Final Reckoning. (the Child From The Sea)

Humanity Can Be Roughly Divided Into Three Sorts Of People - Those Who Find Comfort In Literature, Those Who Find Comfort In Personal Adornment, And Those Who Find Comfort In Food.

Autumn Days Have A Holiness That Spring Lacks ... They Are Like Old Serene Saints For Whom Death Has Lost Its Terror.

There Always Comes, I Think, A Sort Of Peak In Suffering At Which Either You Win Over Your Pain Or Your Pain Wins Over You, According As To Whether You Can, Or Cannot, Call Up That Extra Ounce Of Endurance That Helps You To Break Through The Circle Of Yourself And Do The Hitherto Impossible. That Extra Ounce Carries You Through 'le Dernier Quart D' Heure.' Psychologist Have A Name For It, I Believe. Christians Call It The Grace Of God.