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Quotes from S. Weir Mitchell

The arctic loneliness of age.
~ S. Weir Mitchell
Alas, how can we help but mourn When hero bosoms yield their breath! A century itself may bear But once the flower of such a death.
~ S. Weir Mitchell
Show me the books he loves and I shall know the man far better than through mortal friends.
~ S. Weir Mitchell
The arctic loneliness of age.
~ S. Weir Mitchell
He alone has lost the art to live who cannot win new friends.
~ S. Weir Mitchell