Green Leaves On A Dead Tree Is

The Secret Of Success Is To Be In Harmony With Existence, To Be Always Calm To Let Each Wave Of Life Wash Us A Little Farther Up The Shore.

Whom The Gods Wish To Destroy They First Call Promising.

A Writer Is In Danger Of Allowing His Talent To Dull Who Lets More Than A Year Go Past Without Finding Himself In His Rightful Place Of Composition, The Small Single Unluxurious Retreat Of The Twentieth Century, The Hotel Bedroom.

Like Water, We Are Truest To Our Nature In Repose.

When Young We Are Faithful To Individuals, When Older We Grow Loyal To Situations And To Types.