Not Seeing Is Half-believing.

To Hope For Paradise Is To Live In Paradise, A Very Different Thing From Actually Getting There.

For The Last 40 Years Of My Life I Have Broken My Back, My Fingernails, And Sometimes My Heart, In The Practical Pursuit Of My Favourite Occupation.

I Like Owls. I Admire Their Intransigent Spirit. I Have Respected Them Deeply Ever Since I Met A Baby Owl In A Wood, When It Fell Over Dead, Apparently From Sheer Temper, Because I Dared To Approach It. It Defied Me First, And Then Died. I Have Never Forgotten The Horror And Shame I Experienced When That Soft Fluffy Thing (towards Which I Had Nothing But The Most Humanitarian Motives) Fell Dead From Rage At My Feet.

There's No Beginning To The Farmer's Year, / Only Recurrent Patterns On A Scroll / Unwinding...

Women, Like Men, Ought To Have Their Years So Glutted With Freedom That They Hate The Very Idea Of Freedom.