To Beatrice- My love flew like a butterfly Until death swooped down like a bat As the poet Emma Montana McElroy said: 'That's the end of that.

Sometimes words are not enough.

I have produced things that I would say were sincerely cheerful. But then I am reminded by other people that no one else would see them that way.

How can someone so wonderful do something so terrible?

There is no worse sound in the world than someone who cannot play the violin but insists on doing so anyway.

Tell me what it is, or prepare to eat harpoon.

You would run much slower if you were dragging something behind you, like a knapsack or a sheriff.