Late February Days; And Now,

I Pondered All These Things, And How Men Fight And Lose The Battle, And The Thing That They Fought For Comes About In Spite Of Their Defeat, And When It Comes Turns Out Not To Be What They Meant, And Other Men Have To Fight For What They Meant Under Another Name.

The Reward Of Labour Is Life. Is That Not Enough?

If A Chap Can't Compose An Epic Poem While He's Weaving Tapestry, He Had Better Shut Up, He'll Never Do Any Good At All.

...if Our Houses, Or Clothes, Our Household Furniture And Utensils Are Not Works Of Art, They Are Either Wretched Makeshifts, Or, What Is Worse, Degrading Shams Of Better Things.

I Am Going Your Way, So Let Us Go Hand In Hand. You Help Me And I'll Help You. We Shall Not Be Here Very Long ... So Let Us Help One Another While We May.