My Hours Are Peaceful Centuries.

We Animate What We Can See, And We See Only What We Animate.

Men Grind And Grind In The Mill Of A Truism, And Nothing Comes Out But What Was Put In. But The Moment They Desert The Tradition For A Spontaneous Thought, Then Poetry, Wit, Hope, Virtue, Learning, Anecdote, And All Flock To Their Aid.

The Secret Of Drunkenness Is, That It Insulates Us In Thought, Whilst It Unites Us In Feeling.

Never Lose An Opportunity Of Seeing Anything Beautiful, For Beauty Is God's Handwriting.

All Loss, All Pain, Is Particular; The Universe Remains To The Heart Unhurt.