Only Mediocre People Are At The Best

She Was A Fool And He Knew It And Because He Loved Her It Had Made No Difference.

People Who Ask For Your Criticism Want Only Praise.

I Know That I Shall Die Struggling For Breath, And I Know That I Shall Be Horribly Afraid. I Know That I Shall Not Be Able To Keep Myself From Regretting Bitterly The Life That Has Brought Me To Such A Pass; But I Disown That Regret. I Now, Weak, Old, Diseased, Poor, Dying, Hold Still My Soul In My Hands, And I Regret Nothing.

The Day Broke Grey And Dull. The Clouds Hung Heavily, And There Was A Rawness In The Air That Suggested Snow. A Woman Servant Came Into A Room In Which A Child Was Sleeping And Drew The Curtains. She Glanced Mechanically At The House Opposite, A Stucco House With A Portico, And Went To The Child's Bed.

I'm Not Only My Spirit Buy My Body, And Who Can Decide How Much I, My Individual Self, Am Conditioned By The Accident Of My Body? Would Byron Have Been Byron But For His Club Foot, Or Dostoyevsky Dostoyevsky Without His Epilepsy?