When one promise jostles another, one of 'em isn't a promise.
A letter is a risky thing; the writer gambles on the reader's frame of mind.
the blue and cloudless day closes like the lid of a casket of jewels upon the violet rim of sea, and shuts out the light.
There isn't any virtue where there has never been any temptation.
Convictions do not imply reasons.
... some of the things floating about in the Well of Memory are not worth recording.