Some day...after I am dead, you may perhaps come to learn the right and wrong of this. I cannot tell you.
Robert Louis StevensonHis friends were those of his own blood or those whom he had known the longest; his affections, like ivy, were the growth of time, they implied no aptness in the object.
Robert Louis StevensonIt is one of the worst things of sentiment that the voice grows to be more important than the words, and the speaker than that what is spoken.
Robert Louis Stevenson