There Is In The End No Remedy

Every Spring Is The Only Spring, A Perpetual Astonishment.

They Sell Courage Of A Sort In The Taverns. And Another Sort, Though Not For Sale, A Man Can Find In The Confessional. Try The Alehouses And The Churches, Hugh. In Either A Man Can Be Quiet And Think.

Despair Is Deadly Sin, But Worse, It Is Mortal Folly.

It Takes A Lot To Wound A Man Without Illusions.

Youth Is No Less Vulnerable, By The Very Quality It Has Of Making The Heart Ache That Beholds And Has Lost It.