I Hate Ordinary People!

I'd Rather See You Poor Men's Wives, If You Were Happy, Beloved, Contented, Than Queen's On Thrones, Without Self-respect And Peace.

Oft In The Silence Of The Night, When The Lonely Moon Rides High, When Wintry Winds Are Whistling, And We Hear The Owl's Shrill Cry, In The Quiet, Dusky Chamber, By The Flickering Firelight, Rising Up Between Two Sleepers, Comes A Spirit All In White.

Is It Not Meningitis?

Ridicule Is Often Harder To Bear Than Self-denial.

I Never Wanted To Go Away, And The Hard Part Now Is The Leaving You All. I'm Not Afraid, But It Seems As If I Should Be Homesick For You Even In Heaven.