On the stem of memory imaginations blossom.

Malice is only another name for mediocrity.

It is impossible to read the daily press without being diverted from reality. You are full of enthusiasm for the eternal verities - life is worth living, and then out of sinful curiosity you open a newspaper. You are disillusioned and wrecked.

It often occurs to me that we love most what makes us miserable. In my opinion the damned are damned because they enjoy being damned.

What appears in newspapers is often new but seldom true.

I dabbled in verse and it became my life

We are not alone in our loneliness, others have been here and known griefs we thought our special own.