Growing old was simply a process of drawing closer to that ultimate independence called death.

There's precious little comes of telling people what they don't want to hear.

The lush green of the fields became a rich gold that swayed sturdily under the wind and fell at last before the hands of the reapers.

The snow again. White, white net of beauty, net of dream, trapping the earth, trapping the helpless heart of life.

Here and there on the branch of an oak a congress of leaves still clung, rigid as flakes of bronze.

Religion is passionate, reckless, destructive, idol-smashing. It's a martyr burning at the stake. It's a crown of thorns and a cross.

a man can break God's laws and be forgiven. That's what they teach us. But when he breaks Nature's laws, there's no forgiveness - and there's no escape. Sooner or later he pays the penalty, or his children pay it - or his children's children. It doesn't matter much. It must be paid.