The grass as bristly and stout as chives and me wondering when the ground will break and me wondering how anything fragile survives.

You who have inhabited me in the deepest and most broken place$$$ are going$$$ going.

As is a tale$$$ so is life: not how long it is$$$ but how good it is$$$ is what matters.

People are frugal in guarding their personal property; but as soon as it comes to squandering time they are most wasteful of the one thing in which it is right to be stingy.

God save us from people who mean well.

The cynics are correct: the sense of freewill is only that feeling which we have when we take the necessitated option that most appeals to us.

A creative life cannot be sustained by approval any more than it can be destroyed by criticism.

In the end every one stands alone$$$ and the important thing is who it is that stands alone.

The more unintelligent a man is$$$ the less mysterious existence seems to him.

Great men are like eagles$$$ and build their nest on some lofty solitude