Look At This Tangle Of Thorns.

Play! Invent The World! Invent Reality!

But That Mimosa Grove-the Haze Of Stars, The Tingle, The Flame, The Honey-dew, And The Ache Remained With Me, And That Little Girl With Her Seaside Limbs And Ardent Tongue Haunted Me Ever Since-until At Last, Twenty-four Years Later, I Broke Her Spell By Incarnating Her In Another.

You Know, What's So Dreadful About Dying Is That You Are Completely On Your Own.

No Difference Exists Between American And European Manners. A Proletarian From Chicago Can Be Just As Philistine As An English Duke.

The Breaking Of A Wave Cannot Explain The Whole Sea.