Please give me some good advice in your next letter. I promise not to follow it.

When you publish something, it is very much as if you pulled your pants down in public. If what you have written is good, nobody can hurt you; if what you have written is bad, nobody can help you.

Heap not on this mound roses that she loved so well; why bewilder her with roses that she cannot see or smell.

Guess I'll weep awhile. Guess I won't, I mean.

I dread no more the first white in my hair, Or even age itself, the easy shoe, The cane, the wrinkled hands, the special chair: Time, doing this to me, may alter too My anguish, into something I can bear

There isn't a train I wouldn't take, no matter where it's going.

l am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground. So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind: Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.