Youth is a period of missed opportunities. - Cyril Connolly

A stone lies in a river; a piece of wood is jammed against it; dead leaves, drifting logs, and branches caked with mud collect; weeds settle there, and soon birds have made a nest and are feeding their young among the blossoming water plants. Then the river rises and the earth is washed away. The birds depart, the flowers wither, the branches are dislodged and drift downward; no trace is left of the floating island but a stone submerged by the water; — such is our personality.

Literature is the art of writing something that will be read twice; journalism what will be grasped at once, and they require separate techniques.

It is closing time in the gardens of the West.