Silence

My father used to say,

“Superior people never make long visits, have to be shown Longfellow’s grave nor the glass flowers at Harvard Self reliant like the cat -- that takes its prey to privacy, the mouse’s limp tail hanging like a shoelace from its mouth -- they sometimes enjoy solitude, and can be robbed of speech by speech which has delighted them. The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence; not in silence, but restraint.” Nor was he insincere in saying, “Make my house your inn.” Inns are not residences.