we middle-aged folk have the education of life, truly; we know the multiplication table of anxieties and sorrows, the subtraction table of loss, the division table of responsibility.

moral vanity is the snare of good people.

In connection with death, or birth, or love, modesty is only a rather puerile self-consciousness.

Hearts don't come when Reason whistles to 'em.

The insolence of time is like a blow in the face from an unseen enemy.

Grief is the price Love pays for being in the same world with Death.

... some of the things floating about in the Well of Memory are not worth recording.