I must go deeper and even stronger into my treasure mine and stint nothing of time, toil, or torture.
I confess that reading proofs is a pleasure. It stimulates and inspires me.
What makes life worth living? Better surely, to yield to the stain of suicide blood in me and seek forgetfulness in the embrace of cold dark death.
If I fished only to capture fish, my fishing trips would have ended long ago.
I can write best in the silence and solitude of the night, when everyone has retired.
It was a decent New Year's, but it took a million officers to make it so.