The Lover As Baby Is A Less

It Is Hard To Tell Truth, And Hard Not To.

Fruitless Striving Breeds Less Despair Than Inaction.

Young Poets Bewail The Passing Of Love; Old Poets, The Passing Of Time. There Is Surprisingly Little Difference.

Lies Save Trouble Now, But May Return In Thunder And Lightning.

Men And Women Would Be Even More Unhappy If They Really Understood One Another.