His Wardrobe Was Extensive-very Extensive-not Strictly Classical

Pause You Who Read This, And Think For A Moment Of The Long Chain Of Iron Or Gold, Of Thorns Or Flowers, That Would Never Have Bound You, But For The Formation Of The First Link On One Memorable Day.

Nothing Ever Happened On This Globe, For Good, At Which Some People Did Not Have Their Fill Of Laughter In The Onset; And Knowing That Such As These Would Be Blind Anyway, He Thought It Quite As Well That They Should Wrinkle Up Their Eyes In Grins, As Have A Malady In The Less Attractive Forms.

I Know Enough Of The World Now To Have Almost Lost The Capacity Of Being Much Surprised By Anything

It Was The Momentary Yielding Of A Nature That Had Been Disappointed From The Dawn Of Its Perceptions, But Had Not Quite Given Up All Its Hopeful Yearnings Yet.

There Either Is Or Is Not, That’s The Way Things Are. The Colour Of The Day. The Way It Felt To Be A Child. The Saltwater On Your Sunburnt Legs. Sometimes The Water Is Yellow, Sometimes It’s Red. But What Colour It May Be In Memory, Depends On The Day. I’m Not Going To Tell You The Story The Way It Happened. I’m Going To Tell It The Way I Remember It.