Love must have wings to fly away from love, And to fly back again.

I wonder more and more just where I may have come out if I had never seen Harvard Square.

And thus we all are nighing The truth we fear to know: Death will end our crying For friends that come and go.

This morning I deleted the hyphen from "hell-bound" and made it one word; this afternoon I redivided it and restored the hyphen.

Pity is like a knife, sometimes, and it may pierce one who employs it more shrewdly than the victim it would save.

The world is a kind of spiritual kindergarten where millions of bewildered infants are trying to spell "God" with the wrong blocks.

I mean you last as long as lies.