Really, Trees Are Nearly As Important As

I Advise Nobody To Drown Sorrow In Cocoa. It Is Bad For The Figure And It Does Not Alleviate The Sorrow.

Is This The Final Treachery Of Time, That The Old Become A Burden Upon The Young?

Surely, If Life Is Good, It Is Good Throughout Its Substance; We Cannot Separate Men's Activities From Women's And Say, These Are Worthy Of Praise And These Unworthy.

Why, Why, When One Writes, Does A Sort Of Shackle Bind One's Imagination? I Become Conscious Of A Deadening Mediocrity, Perhaps A Form Of Mental Cowardice, And I Long To Break Free, To Let My Imagination Take Wings. It Doesn't - Yet.

We Each Live In A Private, Distorted, Individual World - Stars Turning In Space, Warmed For A Moment By Each Other's Light, Then Lost In Infinite Distance.