I Would Rather Be Remembered By A

One Never Hugs One's Good Luck So Affectionately As When Listening To The Relation Of Some Horrible Misfortunes Which Has Overtaken Others.

Looking Forward Into An Empty Year Strikes One With A Certain Awe, Because One Finds Therein No Recognition. The Years Behind Have A Friendly Aspect, And They Are Warmed By The Fires We Have Kindled, And All Their Echoes Are The Echoes Of Our Own Voices.

Winter Does Not Work Only On A Broad Scale; He Is Careful In Trifles.

Everything Is Sweetened By Risk.

God Has Thickly Strewn Infinity With Grandeur.