Authors Must Not, Like Chinese Soldiers, Expect

The Holiest Of All Holidays Are Those Kept By Ourselves In Silence And Apart; The Secret Anniversaries Of The Heart, When The Full River Of Feeling Overflows;- The Happy Days Unclouded To Their Close; The Sudden Joys That Our Of Darkness Start As Flames From Ashes; Swift Desires That Dart Like Swallows Singing Down Each Wind That Blows!

The Mind Of The Scholar, If He Would Leave It Large And Liberal, Should Come In Contact With Other Minds.

Yes, We Must Ever Be Friends; And Of All Who Offer You Friendship Let Me Be Ever The First, The Truest, The Nearest And Dearest.

But Oftentimes Celestial Benedictions Assume This Dark Disguise.

Know How Sublime A Thing It Is To Suffer And Be Strong.