Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow
It takes so many years to learn that one is dead.
Home is where one starts from.
We fight for lost causes because we know that our defeat and dismay may be the preface to our successors' victory, though that victory itself will be temporary; we fight rather to keep something alive than in the expectation that anything will triumph.
Art never improves, but... the material of art is never quite the same.
It is not necessarily those lands which are the most fertile or most favored in climate that seem to me the happiest, but those in which a long struggle of adaptation between man and his environment has brought out the best qualities of both.