"It is never to late to be what you might have been"
"It is never to late to be what you might have been"
"A man falling into dark waters seeks a momentary footing even on sliding stones..."
Renunciation remains sorrow, though a sorrow borne willingly.
In the multitude of middle-aged men who go about their vocations in a daily course determined for them much in the same way as the tie of their cravats, there is always a good number who once meant to shape their own deeds and alter the world a little.
How could a man be satisfied with a decision between such alternatives and under such circumstances No more than he can be satisfied with his hat, which he's chosen from among such shapes as the resources of the age offer him. . . .
Here undoubtedly lies the chief poetic energy: - in the force of imagination that pierces or exalts the solid fact, instead of floating among cloud-pictures.
For what is love itself, for the one we love best? An enfolding of immeasurable cares which yet are better than any joys outside our love.
Certainly, the mistakes that we male and female mortals make when we have our own way might fairly raise some wonder that we're so fond of it.
Few women, I fear, have had such reason as I have to think the long sad years of youth were worth living for the sake of middle age.