Forget Not Bees In Winter, Though They

I Have Come To The Conclusion, After Many Years Of Sometimes Sad Experience, That You Cannot Come To Any Conclusion At All.

Still, No Gardener Would Be A Gardener If He Did Not Live In Hope.

How Subtle Is The Relationship Between The Traveler And His Luggage! He Knows, As No One Else Knows, Its Idiosyncrasies, Its Contents ... And Always Some Small Nuisance Which He Wishes He Had Not Brought; Had Known, Indeed, Before Starting That He Would Regret It, But Brought It All The Same.

All The Small Squalors Of The Body, Known Only To Oneself, Insignificant In Youth, Easily Dismissed, In Old Age Became Dominant And Entered Into Fulfilment Of The Tyranny They Had Always Threatened.

It Isn't That I Don't Like Sweet Disorder, But It Has To Be Judiciously Arranged.