Love begets love. This torment is my joy.
In our age, if a boy or girl is untalented, the odds are in favor of their thinking they want to write.
Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
What have I done, dear God, to deserve this perpetual feeling that I'm almost ready to begin something really new?
Teach as an old fishing guide takes out a beginner.