Wherever conversation's flowing, / Why must I feel it falls on me / To keep things going?

What in me is pure conviction is simple prejudice in you.

Time is the thief you cannot banish.

There are books that one needs maturity to enjoy just as there are books an adult can come on too late to savor.

A bit of trash now and then is good for the severest reader. It provides the necessary roughage in the literary diet.

I sing Connecticut, her charms / Of rivers, orchards, blossoming ridges. / I sing her gardens, fences, farms, / Spiders and midges.

Wherever conversation's flowing, / Why must I feel it falls on me / To keep things going?