Some nights are like honey - and some like wine - and some like wormwood.

trees, unlike so many humans, always improve on acquaintance. No matter how much you like them at the start you are sure to like them much better further on, and best of all when you have known them for years and enjoyed intercourse with them in all seasons.

Dear old world', she murmured, 'you are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you.

That's one of the things we learn as we grow older -- how to forgive. It comes easier at forty than it did at twenty.

Some nights are like honey - and some like wine - and some like wormwood.

It is never quite safe to think we have done with life. When we imagine we have finished our story fate has a trick of turning the page and showing us yet another chapter.

I am well in body although considerable rumpled up in spirit.