What Is Beautiful Is Good, And Who

The Wise Traveler Is He Who Is Perpetually Surprised.

Women, Like Men, Ought To Have Their Years So Glutted With Freedom That They Hate The Very Idea Of Freedom.

I Worshipped Dead Men For Their Strength, Forgetting I Was Strong.

One Must Be Businesslike, Although The Glass Is Falling.

I Loved You When Love Was Spring, And May, Loved You When Summer Deepened Into June, And Now When Autumn Yellows All The Leaves.