For bees are captious folk / And quick to turn against the lubber's touch.

I have come to the conclusion, after many years of sometimes sad experience, that you cannot come to any conclusion at all.

I do not like January very much. It is too stationary. Not enough happens. I like the evidences of life, and in January there are too few of them.

There are no signposts in the sea.

There is something intrinsically wrong about letters. For one thing they are not instantaneous. ... Nor is this the only trouble about letters. They do not arrive often enough. A letter which has been passionately awaited should be immediately supplemented by another one, to counteract the feeling of flatness that comes upon us when the agonizing delights of anticipation have been replaced by the colder flood of fulfilment.

The writer catches the changes of his mind on the hop. Growth is exciting; growth is dynamic and alarming. Growth of the soul, growth of the mind.

Not seeing is half-believing.