Nothingis So Ungrateful As A Rising Generation;

No One In The Modern World Is More Lonely Than The Writer With A Literary Conscience.

It Would Appear, From The Best Examples, That The Proper Way Of Beginning A Preface To One's Work Is With A Humble Apology For Having Written At All.

Women Are One Of The Almighty's Enigmas To Prove To Men That He Knows More Than They Do.

. . . Every Tree Near Our House Had A Name Of Its Own And A Special Identity. This Was The Beginning Of My Love For Natural Things, For Earth And Sky, For Roads And Fields And Woods, For Trees And Grass And Flowers; A Love Which Has Been Second Only To My Sense Of Enduring Kinship With Birds And Animals, And All Inarticulate Creatures.

Cruelty Is The Only Sin.