Everybody's Tragedy Is Somebody's Nuisance.

But To Write - That Is Grief And Labor; And To Read What One Has Written - How Unlike The Story As One Saw It; How Dull, How Spirtless - That Is Enough To Send One Weeping To Bed.

The Greatest Mercy, I Have Often Thought, Of The Mediterranean Coast Lies In Its Mosquitoes. Did We Not Suffer From Their Unwelcome Attention, We Could Not Bear Our Holidays To End.

Remorse ... Is One Of The Many Afflictions For Which Time Finds A Cure.

Teachers Have Power. We May Cripple Them By Petty Economics; By Government Regulations, By The Foolish Criticism Of An Uninformed Press; But Their Power Exists For Good Or Evil.

I Find You In All Small And Lovely Things; In The Little Fishes Like Flames In The Green Water, In The Furred And Stupid Softness Of Bumble-bees Fat As Laughter, In All The Chiming Radiance Of Warmth And Light And Scent In The Summer Garden.