Didn't you tie the mittens on her feet (Wednesday Evening's) extra special nice? Yes--she is an extra special nice pigeon. She cries for pity when she wants pity. And she shuts her eyes when she doesn't want to look at you. And if you look deep in her eyes when her eyes are open you will see lights there exactly like the lights on the pastures and the meadows when the mist is drifting on a Wednesday evening just between the twilight and gloaming.

In the night the cabbages catch at the moon, the leaves drip silver, the rows of cabbages are a series of little silver waterfalls in the moon.

To work hard, to live hard, to die hard, and then go to hell after all would be too damned hard.

The sea speaks a language polite people never repeat. It is a colossal scavenger slang and has no respect.

There are dreams stronger than death. Men and women die holding these dreams.

I doubt if you can have a truly wild party without liquor.

I have in later years taken to Euclid, Whitehead, Bertrand Russell, in an elemental way.