What Is Beautiful Is Good, And Who

I Do Not Like January Very Much. It Is Too Stationary. Not Enough Happens. I Like The Evidences Of Life, And In January There Are Too Few Of Them.

There Is Nothing More Lovely In Life Than The Union Of Two People Whose Love For One Another Has Grown Through The Years, From The Small Acorn Of Passion, Into A Great Rooted Tree

It Is Necessary To Write, If The Days Are Not To Slip Emptily By. How Else, Indeed, To Clap The Net Over The Butterfly Of The Moment? For The Moment Passes, It Is Forgotten; The Mood Is Gone; Life Itself Is Gone. That Is Where The Writer Scores Over His Fellows: He Catches The Changes Of His Mind On The Hop.

Days I Enjoy Are Days When Nothing Happens, When I Have No Engagements Written On My Block, When No One Comes To Disturb My Inward Peace, When No One Comes To Take Me Away From Myself And Turn Me Into A Patchwork, A Jig-saw Puzzle, A Broken Mirror That Once Gave A Whole Reflection, Being So Contrived That It Takes Too Long A Time To Get Myself Back To Myself When They Have Gone.

A Good Start In Life Is As Important To Plants As It Is To Children: They Must Develop Strong Roots In A Congenial Soil, Otherwise They Will Never Make The Growth That Will Serve Them Richly According To Their Needs In Their Adult Life.