Give me good digestion, Lord, And also something to digest; but where and how that something comes I leave to Thee, who knoweth best.

There is surely no more unselfish person than the anthologist. For while all we others are striving to ensure our own immortality with eagerness, beguilements, buffooneries, loud voices, 'the sound of battle and garments rolled in blood,' the anthologist is quietly ensuring the immortality of somebody else.

But when you dwell in a house you mislike, you will look out of a window a deal more than those that are content with their dwelling.

it is the way of lovers to think that none can bless or succour their love but their own selves. And there is a touch of truth in it, maybe more than a touch.

It's the folks that depend on us for this and for the other that we most do miss.

For the world is founded and built up on death, and the reality of death is neither to be questioned nor feared. Death is a dark dream, but it is not a nightmare. It is mankind's lack of pity, mankind's fatal propensity for torture, that is the nightmare.

Give me good digestion, Lord, And also something to digest; but where and how that something comes I leave to Thee, who knoweth best.