Life is always uncertain,'he said with a shrug. 'We cannot let the fear of what might happen stop us living as we choose.

So, you see, my heart is held forever by this place," she said. "I cannot leave.

Ever try to hold a butterfly? It can't be done. You damage them," he said. 'As gentle as you try to be, you take the powder from their wings and they won't ever fly the same. It's kinder to let them go.

Tis never the place, but the people one shares it with who are the cause of our happiest memories.

Whatever time we have," he said, "it will be time enough.

When I meet a wind I cannot fight , I can do naught but set my sails to let it take me where it will.

There's a line in The Barretts of Wimpole Street - you know, the play - where Elizabeth Barrett is trying to work out the meaning of one of Robert Browning's poems, and she shows it to him, and he reads it and he tells her when he wrote that poem, only God and Robert Browning knew what it meant, and now only God knows. And that's how I feel about studying English. Who knows what the writer was thinking, and why should it matter? I'd rather just read for enjoyment.