Let Us Love Winter, For It Is

Nothing, It Appears To Me, Is Of Greater Value In A Man Than The Power Of Judgment; And The Man Who Has It May Be Compared To A Chest Filled With Books, For He Is The Son Of Nature And The Father Of Art.

Even When I'm Railed At, I Get My Quota Of Renown.

Learning Is The Property Of Those Who Fear To Do Disagreeable Things.

And There Is Quite A Different Sort Of Conversation Around A Fire Than There Is In The Shadow Of A Beech Tree.... Four Dry Logs Have In Them All The Circumstance Necessary To A Conversation Of Four Or Five Hours, With Chestnuts On The Plate And A Jug Of Wine Between The Legs. Yes, Let Us Love Winter, For It Is The Spring Of Genius.

Let Us Love Winter, For It Is The Spring Of Genius.