No opinion can be trusted; even the facts may be nothing but a printer's error.
A new music is a new mind.
All women are not Helen, I know that, but have Helen in their hearts.
A profusion of pink roses being ragged in the rain speaks to me of all gentleness and its enduring.
History, history! We fools, what do we know or care.
My surface is myself. Under which to witness, youth is buried. Roots? Everybody has roots.