And soon, too soon, we part with pain, To sail o’er silent seas again.
I have often noticed that ancestors never boast of the descendants who boast of ancestors. I would rather start a family than finish one. Blood will tell, but often it tells too much.
If the impulse to daring and bravery is too fierce and violent, stay it with guidance and instruction.
One cannot be too extreme in dealing with social ills; the extreme thing is generally the true thing.
I’m fighting against the bad poet who is prone to using too many words.
I’ve never joined any organization – not even the ones I’ve organized myself. I prize my own independence too much.
All of my misfortunes come from having thought too well of my fellows.
I mean, every thought starts over, so every expression of a thought has to do the same. every accuracy has to be invented… I feel I am blundering in concepts too fine for me.
Strange – is it not? That of the myriads who Before us passed the door of Darkness through, Not one returns to tell us of the road Which to discover we must travel too.
But far more numerous was the herd of such, Who think too little, and who talk too much.