It is not fair to be old, to put on a brown sweater.

I think these days when there is so little to believe in——when the old loyalties——God, country, and the hope of Heaven——aren't very real, we are more dependent than we should be on our friends. The only thing left to believe in——someone who seems beautiful.

The descent beckons as the ascent beckoned

Sorrow is my own yard where the new grass flames as it has flamed often before but not with the cold fire that closes round me this year.

But the sea which no one tends is also a garden

When I am alone I am happy.

Hell take curtains! Go with some show of inconvenience; sit openly - to the weather as to grief. Or do you think you can shut your grief in?