I am tired, beloved, of chafing my heart against the want of you; of squeezing it into little ink drops, and posting it. And I scald alone, here, under the fire of the great moon.
From Amy Lowell
Moon! Moon! I am prone before you. Pity me, and drench me in loneliness.
A man must be sacrificed now and again to provide for the next generation of men.
Art is the desire of a man to express himself, to record the reactions of his personality to the world he lives in.
Let us be of cheer, remembering that the misfortunes hardest to bear are those which never come.
Youth condemns; maturity condones.
Hate is ravening vulture beaks descending on a place of skulls.
In science, read by preference the newest works. In literature, read the oldest. The classics are always modern.
Take everything easy and quit dreaming and brooding and you will be well guarded from a thousand evils.
For books are more than books, they are the life, the very heart and core of ages past, the reason why men worked and died, the essence and quintessence of their lives.
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