There is no place for grief in a house which serves the Muse.

Golden Boy with feet of clay<br>Let me help you on your way<br>A proper push will take you far <br>-But what a clumsy lad you are!

I am led to the proposition that there is no fiction or nonfiction as we commonly understand the distinction: there is only narrative.

There is no index of character as sure as the voice.

He was distinguished for ignorance; for he had only one idea$$$ and that was wrong.

I think I made you up inside my head.

As a rule$$$ he or she who has the most information will have the greatest success in life.

He judged the instant and let go; he flung himself loose into the stars.

Sorry$$$ mom. Sorry$$$ God.

Caring passionately about something isn't against nature$$$ and it isn't against human nature. It's what we're here to do.