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— Hilaire Belloc"The tender Evenlode that makes Her meadows hush to hear the sound Of waters mingling in the brakes, And binds my heart to English ground. A lovely river, all alone, She lingers in the hills and holds A hundred little towns of stone, Forgotten in the western wolds."
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Me and my shadow Strolling down the avenue Oh, me and my shadow Not a soul to tell our troubles to And when it's twelve o'clock we climb the stairs We never knock 'cause nobody's there Just me and my shadow All alone and feeling blue
— Billy Rose
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He who would do great things should not attempt them all alone.
— Seneca the Younger
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