It Is Only In The Heart That

It Was A Perfect Spring Afternoon, And The Air Was Filled With Vague, Roving Scents, As If The Earth Exhaled The Sweetness Of Hidden Flowers.

Idealism, That Gaudy Coloring Matter Of Passion, Fades When It Is Brought Beneath The Trenchant White Light Of Knowledge. Ideals, Like Mountains, Are Best At A Distance.

Cynicism Is A Sure Sign Of Youth.

Youth Is Always An Enemy To The Old.

I Haven't Much Opinion Of Words. They're Apt To Set Fire To A Dry Tongue, That's What I Say.