Grief Even In A Child

I Feel That There Is No Such Thing As Ultimate Forgetting; Traces Once Impressed Upon The Memory Are Indestructible.

Dyspepsy Is The Ruin Of Most Things: Empires, Expeditions, And Everything Else.

Out Of The Ruined Lodge And Forgotten Mansion, Bowers That Are Trodden Under Foot, And Pleasure-houses That Are Dust, The Poet Calls Up A Palingenesis.

Everlasting Farewells! And Again, And Yet Again Reverberated Everlasting Farewells!

No Progressive Knowledge Will Ever Medicine That Dread Misgiving Of A Mysterious And Pathless Power Given To Words Of A Certain Import.