Happiness quells thought. And work quells thought.
When people aren't expecting to be seen, they look their truest.
How quick and rushing life can sometimes seem, when at the same time it's so slow and sweet and everlasting.
Ah, children, pity level-crossing keepers, pity lock-keepers - pity lighthouse-keepers - pity all the keepers of this world (pity even school teachers), caught between their conscience and the bleak horizon.
I don't reread my books.
Today's news, which may be yesterday's anyway, will be eclipsed tomorrow.