Christmas is the day that holds all time together.

Men praise poverty, as the African worships Mumbo Jumbo--from terror of the malign power, and a desire to propitiate at.

The discovery of a grey hair when you are brushing out your whiskers of a morning - first fallen flake of the coming snows of age - is a disagreeable thing.

My friend is not perfect-no more than I am-and so we suit each other admirable.

Everything is sweetened by risk.

In my garden I spend my days; in my library I spend my nights.

Christmas is the day that holds all time together.