We Were All At Once Terribly Alone;

Our Thoughts Are Clay, They Are Moulded With The Changes Of The Days;--when We Are Resting They Are Good; Under Fire, They Are Dead. Fields Of Craters Within And Without.

No Matter How Improbable An Assertion Is, If It Is Made With Enough Assurance It Has An Affect.

Keep Things At Arm's Length... If You Let Anything Come Too Near You Want To Hold On To It. And There Is Nothing A Man Can Hold On To.

It's Only Terrible To Have Nothing To Wait For.

To Forget Is The Secret Of Eternal Youth. One Grows Old Only Through Memory. There's Much Too Little Forgetting.