All Writing Is A Form Of Prayer.

There Is An Old Saying "well Begun Is Half Done"-'tis A Bad One. I Would Use Instead-not Begun At All 'til Half Done.

The Silver, Snarling Trumpets 'gan To Chide.

We Have Woven A Web, You And I, Attached To This World But A Separate World Of Our Own Invention.

I Have Two Luxuries To Brood Over In My Walks, Your Loveliness And The Hour Of My Death. O That I Could Have Possession Of Them Both In The Same Minute.

Many Have Original Minds Who Do Not Think It - They Are Led Away By Custom!