happiness, unlike grief, does not clamor for a chronicler.

Anyone one loves is a potential enemy.

dreams must not take the place of actual life, nor constitute themselves a cowardly escape from it, but become rather a sanctuary in which the overdriven mind and nerves may take refuge, a country on the outer edge of this confusion, bright with the shadow of eternity beyond.

Civilization has developed executive powers far beyond its understanding.

happiness, unlike grief, does not clamor for a chronicler.

There is a special blessing in old clothes, and that aside from their comfort, for which especially they are to be cherished. They confer a kind of anonymity on one who wears them gladly; all their bright places rubbed to a uniform dullness, they achieve an appearance so nearly nondescript that only a close scrutiny could learn that ever they held shape at all.

creative thought seems prone to flower in symbols before it ripens to fruit.