Prohibition only drives drunkenness behind doors and into dark places, and does not cure it or even diminish it.
To one in sympathy with nature, each season, in its turn, seems the loveliest.
Let us guess that whenever we read a sentence & like it, we unconsciously store it away in our model-chamber; & it goes, with the myriad of its fellows, to the building, brick by brick, of the eventual edifice which we call our style.
I do not wish any reward but to know I have done the right thing.
Of course, no man is entirely in his right mind at any time.
In my nostrils still lives the breath of flowers that perished twenty years ago.