There is luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel no one else has a right to blame us.
There is nothing so habit-forming as money.
We pay for the mistakes of our ancestors, and it seems only fair that they should leave us the money to pay with.
When a man tells you that he got rich through hard work, ask him: 'Whose?'
Writing a book of poetry is like dropping a rose petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo.