Please Tell Me What Can I Do.

If People Bring So Much Courage To This World The World Has To Kill Them To Break Them, So Of Course It Kills Them. The World Breaks Every One And Afterward Many Are Strong At The Broken Places. But Those That Will Not Break It Kills. It Kills The Very Good And The Very Gentle And The Very Brave Impartially. If You Are None Of These You Can Be Sure It Will Kill You Too But There Will Be No Special Hurry.

The Brave Dies Perhaps Two Thousand Deaths If He's Intelligent. He Simply Doesn't Mention Them.

We Are All Apprentices In A Craft Where No One Ever Becomes A Master.

If A Writer Of Prose Knows Enough About What He Is Writing About He May Omit Things That He Knows And The Reader, If The Writer Is Writing Truly Enough, Will Have A Feeling Of Those Things As Strongly As Though The Writer Had Stated Them. The Dignity Of Movement Of An Iceberg Is Due To Only One-eighth Of It Being Above Water. A Writer Who Omits Things Because He Does Not Know Them Only Makes Hollow Places In His Writing.

The Only Thing That Could Spoil A Day Was People. People Were Always The Limiters Of Happiness Except For The Very Few That Were As Good As Spring Itself.