Here are your waters and your watering place. Drink and be whole again beyond confusion.

There is the fear that we shan't prove worthy in the eyes of someone who knows us at least as well as we know ourselves. That is the fear of God. And there is the fear of Man -fear that men won't understand us and we shall be cut of from them.

That day she put our heads together, Fate had her imagination about her, Your head so much concerned with outer, Mine with inner, weather.

A successful lawsuit is the one worn by a policeman.

Now no joy but lacks salt That is not dashed with pain And weariness and fault; I crave the stain Of tears, the aftermark Of almost too much love, The sweet of bitter bark And burning clove.

What is this talked-of mystery of birth. But being mounted bareback on the earth?

I alone of English writers have consciously set myself to make music out of what I may call the sound of sense.