One Always Begins To Forgive A Place

I Wear The Chains I Forged In Life.

Ah, If Only I Had Brought A Cigar With Me! This Would Have Established My Identity.

Huge Knots Of Sea-weed Hung Upon The Jagged And Pointed Stones, Trembling In Every Breath Of Wind; And The Green Ivy Clung Mournfully Round The Dark And Ruined Battlements. Behind It Rose The Ancient Castle, Its Towers Roofless, And Its Massive Walls Crumbling Away, But Telling Us Proudly Of Its Own Might And Strength, As When, Seven Hundred Years Ago, It Rang With The Clash Of Arms, Or Resounded With The Noise Of Feasting And Revelry.

For It Is Good To Be Children Sometimes, And Never Better Than At Christmas, When Its Mighty Founder Was A Child Himself.

Man Cannot Really Improve Himself Without Improving Others.