Tragedy Is Clean, It Is Restful, It

Beauty, Real Beauty, Is Something Very Grave. If There Is A God, He Must Be Partly That.

A Happy Love Is Full Of Quarrels, You Know.

Until The Day Of His Death No Man Can Be Sure Of His Courage.

Life Is A Child Playing Round Your Feet, A Tool You Hold Firmly In Your Grip, A Bench You Sit Down Upon In The Evening, In Your Garden.

Life Has A Way Of Setting Things In Order And Leaving Them Be. Very Tidy, Is Life.