Sweet April's Tears, Dead On The Hem

The Discovery Of A Grey Hair When You Are Brushing Out Your Whiskers Of A Morning - First Fallen Flake Of The Coming Snows Of Age - Is A Disagreeable Thing.

Fine Phrases I Value More Than Bank-notes. I Have Ear For No Other Harmony Than The Harmony Of Words. To Be Occasionally Quoted Is The Only Fame I Care For.

There Is Nothing Good In This World Which Time Does Not Improve.

A Man Does Not Plant A Tree For Himself; He Plants It For Posterity.

To Have To Die Is A Distinction Of Which No Man Is Proud.