It Is Lovely, When I Forget All

Yes, I Learned Long Ago That The Only Satisfaction Of Authorship Lies In Finding The Very Few Who Understand What We Mean. As For Outside Rewards, There Is Not One That I Have Ever Discovered.

If Broken Hearts Could Kill, The Earth Would Be As Dead As The Moon.

It Is Lovely, When I Forget All Birthdays, Including My Own, To Find That Somebody Remembers Me.

Words, Like Acts, Become Stale When They Are Repeated.

It Is Difficult To Deal Successfully, He Decided, With A Woman Whose Feelings Cannot Be Hurt.