The Old Poets Little Knew

What's Everybody's Business Is Nobody's Business.

In The Life Of Each Of Us, I Said To Myself, There Is A Place Remote And Islanded, And Given To Endless Regret Or Secret Happiness; We Are Each The Uncompanioned Hermit And Recluse Of An Hour Or A Day; We Understand Our Fellows Of The Cell To Whatever Age Of History They May Belong.

Conversation's Got To Have Some Root In The Past, Or Else You've Got To Explain Every Remark You Make, An' It Wears A Person Out.

The Growth Of True Friendship May Be A Lifelong Affair.

I've Found That People Who Look At Things As They Are, And Not As They Wish Them To Be, Are The Ones Who Succeed.