The Truth Is Friendship Is Every Bit

Regret Is An Appalling Waste Of Energy, And No One Who Intends To Be A Writer Can Afford To Indulge In It.

There Are Always These Moments In Life When The Limits Of Suffering Are Reached And We Become Heroes And Heroines.

Isn't Life,' She Stammered, 'isn't Life--' But What Life Was She Couldn't Explain. No Matter. He Quite Understood. 'isn't It, Darling?' Said Laurie.

Ach, Tchekov! Why Are You Dead? Why Can’t I Talk To You In A Big Darkish Room At Late Evening—where The Light Is Green From The Waving Trees Outside? I’d Like To Write A Series Of Heavens: That Would Be One.

Roses Are The Only Flowers At Garden-parties; The Only Flowers That Everybody Is Certain Of Knowing.