Beauty Is Not Caused. It Is.

Hope Is A Strange Invention - A Patent Of The Heart - In Unremitting Action Yet Never Wearing Out

The Career Of Flowers Differs From Ours Only Inaudibleness.

This Is The Hour Of Lead- Remembered, If Outlived, As Freezing Persons, Recollect The Snow- First-chill-then Stupor- Then The Letting Go---

The Distance That The Dead Have Gone Does Not At First Appear- Their Coming Back Seems Possible For Many An Ardent Year.

Will You Tell Me My Fault, Frankly As To Yourself, For I Had Rather Wince, Than Die. Men Do Not Call The Surgeon To Commend The Bone, But To Set It, Sir.