A Court Has No Right To Strain

Why Is It That So Many Of Us Persist In Thinking That Autumn Is A Sad Season? Nature Has Merely Fallen Asleep, And Her Dreams Must Be Beautiful If We Are To Judge By Her Countenance.

A Wild Rose Roofs The Ruined Shed, And That And Summer Well Agree.

No Man Was Ever Yet A Great Poet, Without Being At The Same Time A Profound Philosopher. For Poetry Is The Blossom And The Fragrance Of All Human Knowledge, Human Thoughts, Human Passions, Emotions, Language.

Acquaintance Many, And Conquaintance Few, But For Inquaintance I Know Only Two - The Friend I've Wept And The Maid I Woo.

In What Way, Or By What Manner Of Working, God Changes A Soul From Evil To Good, How He Impregnates The Barren Rock--the Priceless Gems And Gold--is To The Human Mind An Impenetrable Mystery, In All Cases Alike.