Pity Is Sworn Servant Unto Love: And

Some Memories Are Realities, And Are Better Than Anything That Can Ever Happen To One Again.

Yes, And Because We Grow Old We Become More And More The Stuff Our Forbears Put Into Us. I Can Feel His Savagery Strengthen In Me. We Think We Are So Individual And So Misunderstood When We Are Young; But The Nature Our Strain Of Blood Carries Is Inside There, Waiting, Like Our Skeleton.

Too Much Detail Is Apt, Like Any Other Form Of Extravagance, To Become Slightly Vulgar.

Of All The Bewildering Things About A New Country, The Absence Of Human Landmarks Is One Of The Most Depressing And Disheartening.

The Two Friends Stood For A Few Moments On The Windy Street Corner, Not Speaking A Word, As Two Travelers, Who Have Lost Their Way, Sometimes Stand And Admit Their Perplexity In Silence. (o Pioneers!)