Pride Was The Belt You

I've Killed Enough Of The World's Trees.

It Had That Comfortably Sprung, Lived-in Look That Library Books With A Lively Circulation Always Get; Bent Page Corners, A Dab Of Mustard On Page 331, A Whiff Of Some Reader's Spilled After-dinner Whiskey On Page 468. Only Library Books Speak With Such Wordless Eloquence Of The Power Good Stories Hold Over Us, How Good Stories Abide, Unchanged And Mutely Wise, While We Poor Humans Grow Older And Slower.

The Brain Is A Muscle That Can Move The World.

No One Can Be As Intellectually Slothful As A Really Smart Person

Any Parting Could Be Forever, And We Don't Know.