The Wise Traveler Is He Who Is

For Bees Are Captious Folk / And Quick To Turn Against The Lubber's Touch.

April, The Angel Of The Months, The Young Love Of The Year.

It Isn't That I Don't Like Sweet Disorder, But It Has To Be Judiciously Arranged.

Is It Better To Be Extremely Ambitious, Or Rather Modest? Probably The Latter Is Safer; But I Hate Safety, And Would Rather Fail Gloriously Than Dingily Succeed.

There Is Something Intrinsically Wrong About Letters. For One Thing They Are Not Instantaneous. ... Nor Is This The Only Trouble About Letters. They Do Not Arrive Often Enough. A Letter Which Has Been Passionately Awaited Should Be Immediately Supplemented By Another One, To Counteract The Feeling Of Flatness That Comes Upon Us When The Agonizing Delights Of Anticipation Have Been Replaced By The Colder Flood Of Fulfilment.