Nature has a counterpart, a representation of every interior mood and obscure perception of man.

Build a little fence of trust around today; Fill the space with loving deeds, and therein stay.

Nature has a counterpart, a representation of every interior mood and obscure perception of man.

Not till the end of the war will there be any time for art or love or magic again. Perhaps never again.

The truth which may not be told, is the truth which cannot be told.

For watching death, and above all, after death; not death in battle, but death after battle, brings one to certain indifferences that are also a form of death.

Frog or pearl, life hid something at the bottom of the cup.