There is a warning love sends and the cost of it is never written till long afterward.

Poetry is a packsack of invisible keepsakes.

I had been keeping an off eye on the advertising field, thinking I might become an idea man and a copywriter.

Who am I, where have I been, and where am I going?

I can remember only a few of the strange and curious words now dead but living and spoken by the English people a thousand years ago.

I have always felt that a woman has the right to treat the subject of her age with ambiguity until, perhaps, she passes into the realm of over ninety. Then it is better she be candid with herself and with the world.

A man may be born, but in order to be born he must first die, and in order to die he must first awake.