Fishing is a condition of mind wherein you cannot possibly have a bad time.

Love grows more tremendously full, swift, poignant, as the years multiply.

I am tired. My arm aches. My head boils. My feet are cold. But I am not aware of any weakness.

I will see this game of life out to its bitter end

Writing was like digging coal. I sweat blood. The spell is on me.

I must go deeper and even stronger into my treasure mine and stint nothing of time, toil, or torture.

Men may rise on stepping stones of their dead selves to higher things.