In a land of sand and ruin and gold<br/>There shone one woman$$$ and none but she.
I am tired of tears and laughter$$$<br/>And men that laugh and weep<br/>Of what may come hereafter<br/>For men that sow to reap:I am weary of days and hours$$$<br/>Blown buds of barren flowers$$$<br/>Desires and dreams and powers<br/>And everything but sleep.
May you live every day of your life.
We learn of great things by little experiences.
There are mysteries which men can only guess at$$$ which age by age they may solve only in part.
We can chart our future clearly and wisely only when we know the path which has led to the present.
Newspaper editors are men who separate the wheat from the chaff$$$ and then print the chaff.
Though sympathy alone can't alter facts$$$ it can help to make them more bearable.
When two people meet$$$ each one is changed by the other so you've got two new people.
Writers haven't got any rockets to blast off. We don't even trundle the most insignificant auxiliary vehicle. We haven't got any military might. So what can literature do in the face of the merciless onslaught of open violence? One word of truth outweighs the whole world.