The Truly Great Rest In The Knowledge

How Beautiful The Yesterday That Stood Over Me Like A Rainbow! I Am Alone, The Past Is Past. I See The Future Stretch All Dark And Barren As A Rainy Sea.

A Bottomless Pit Of Violence, A Tower Of Babel Where All Are Speakers And No Hearers.

We Are Never Happy; We Can Only Remember That We Were So Once.

Style, After All, Rather Than Thought, Is The Immortal Thing In Literature.

Christmas Is The Day That Holds All Time Together.