Old Age Takes Away From Us What

The Cliché Is Dead Poetry. English, Being The Language Of An Imaginative Race, Abounds In Clichés, So That English Literature Is Always In Danger Of Being Poisoned By Its Own Secretions.

We Are Closer To The Ants Than To The Butterflies. Very Few People Can Endure Much Leisure.

Everyone Alters And Is Altered By Everyone Else. We Are All The Time Taking In Portions Of One Another Or Else Reacting Against Them, And By These Involuntary Acquisitions And Repulsions Modifying Our Natures.

One Of The Marks Of A Great Poet Is That He Creates His Own Family Of Words And Teaches Them To Live Together In Harmony And To Help One Another.

We Should All Live As If We Were Never Going To Die, For It Is The Deaths Of Our Friends That Hurt Us, Not Our Own.