I am not bound over to swear allegiance to any master; where the storm drives me I turn in for shelter.
Virtue lies half way between two opposite vices.
One goes to the right, the other to the left; both are wrong, but in different directions.
That corner of the world smiles for me more than anywhere else.
Dispel the cold, bounteously replenishing the hearth with logs.
Twixt hope and fear, anxiety and anger.