How love the limb-loosener sweeps me away

You may forget but let me tell you this: someone in some future time will think of us

Beauty endures only for as long as it can be seen; goodness, beautiful today, will remain so tomorrow.

What cannot be said will be wept.

Someone, I tell you, in another time will remember us

Whatever one loves most is beautiful.

Once again love drives me on, that loosener of limbs, bittersweet creature against which nothing can be done.

Although only breath, words which I command are immortal.

Stand and face me, my love,and scatter the grace in your eyes.

All the while, believe me, I prayed our night would last twice as long.

Love shook my heart/ Like the wind on the mountain/ Troubling the oak-trees

What are men? Children who doubt.

Techniques vary, art stays the same; it is a transposition of nature at once forceful and sensitive.

Indolence, languid as it is, often masters both passions and virtues.

Few learn golf in a lifetime.

I think it's terrible to show that to kids. It's - I think you should - if you - if you do a piece where something violent happens and someone dies or is badly injured, you must show the pain.

It is odd but agitation or contest of any kind gives a rebound to my spirits and sets me up for a time.

I've Got the World on a String.

Without trees, mountains, fogs or rains, the Sun cannot create its own magic!

Short stories are like individual jewel stones on a necklace, wonderful in themselves like standalone gleaming entities of semantic intensity.

What lasting progress was ever made in social reformation, except when every step was insured by appeals to the understanding and the will?