My Pen Shall Heal, Not Hurt.

You're Never Safe From Being Surprised Until You're Dead.

The Woods Are Never Solitary--they Are Full Of Whispering, Beckoning, Friendly Life. But The Sea Is A Mighty Soul, Forever Moaning Of Some Great, Unshareable Sorrow, Which Shuts It Up Into Itself For All Eternity.

One Reason Why I Like Writing Poetry - You Can Say So Many Things In It That Are True In Poetry But Wouldn't Be True In Prose.

Valancy Herself Had Never Quite Relinquished A Certain Pitiful, Shamed, Little Hope That Romance Would Come Her Way Yet - Never, Until This Wet, Horrible Morning, When She Wakened To The Fact That She Was Twenty-nine And Unsought By Any Man. Ay, There Lay The Sting. Valancy Did Not Mind So Much Being An Old Maid. After All, She Thought, Being An Old Maid Couldn’t Possibly Be As Dreadful As Being Married To An Uncle Wellignton Or An Uncle Benjamin, Or Even An Uncle Herbert. What Hurt Her Was That She Had Never Had A Chance To Be Anything But An Old Maid.

Life Owes Me Something More Than It Has Paid Me And I'm Going Out To Collect It.