If a man is worth knowing at all, he is worth knowing well.
It is a characteristic of pleasure that we can never recognize it to be pleasure till after it is gone.
Style, after all, rather than thought, is the immortal thing in literature.
Pleasure has no logic; it never treads in its own footsteps.
In my garden I spend my days, in my library I spend my nights. My interests are divided between my geraniums and my books. With the flower I am in the present; with the book I am in the past.
Yet through all, we know this tangled skein is in the hands of One, Who sees the end from the beginning: He shall unravel all.