Only a newspaper! Quick read, quick lost, Who sums the treasure that it carries hence? Torn, trampled under feet, who counts thy cost, Star-eyed intelligence?

To serve thy generation, this thy fate: "Written in water," swiftly fades thy name; But he who loves his kind does, first and late, A work too late for fame.

The Indian Summer, the dead Summer's soul.

A shining isle in a stormy sea, We seek it ever with smiles and sighs; To-day is sad. In the bland To-be, Serene and lovely To-morrow lies.

When you choose your fields of labor go where nobody else is willing to go.

My advice on firing is simple: Treat that person the same way you'd want to be treated if you were in that situation. They're still a good person, just not the right fit. So how do you help them move on in a productive way that allows them to maintain their dignity?