I Wonder What Adam And Eve Think

There Is A Great Amount Of Poetry In Unconscious Fastidiousness.

As For Butterflies, I Can Hardly Conceive Of One's Attending Upon You; But To Question The Congruence Of The Complement Is Vain, If It Exists.

A Writer Is Unfair To Himself When He Is Unable To Be Hard On Himself.

Any Writer Overwhelmingly Honest About Pleasing Himself Is Almost Sure To Please Others.

Victory Won't Come To Me Unless I Go To It; A Grape Tendril Ties A Knot In Knots Till Knotted Thirty Times