Traveling Takes The Ink Out Of One's

I Am Tormented With An Everlasting Itch For Things Remote. I Love To Sail Forbidden Seas.

But The Might-have-been Is But Boggy Ground To Build Upon.

The Western Spirit Is, Or Will Yet Be (for No Other Is, Or Can Be) The True American One.

Top-heavy Was The Ship As A Dinnerless Student With All Aristotle In His Head.

He Seemed To Take To Me Quite As Naturally And Unbiddenly As I To Him; And When Our Smoke Was Over, He Pressed His Forehead Against Mine, Clasped Me Round The Waist, And Said That Henceforth We Were Married.