There Are Few Sorrows In Which A

All My Life, As Down An Abyss Without A Bottom. I Have Been Pouring Van Loads Of Information Into That Vacancy Of Oblivion I Call My Mind.

The Great Art Of Writing Is The Art Of Making People Real To Themselves With Words.

We Grow With Years More Fragile In Body, But Morally Stutter, And Can Throw Off The Chill Of A Bad Conscience Almost At Once.

There Are Two Things To Aim At In Life: First, To Get What You Want; And After That, To Enjoy It. Only The Wisest Of Mankind Achieve The Second.

Growing Old Is Not A Gradual Decline, But A Series Of Drops, Full Of Sorrow, From One Ledge To Another Below It.