I Seem To Have Always One Little

The Soul, At Peace, Reflects The Peace Without, Forgetting Grief As Sunset Skies Forget The Morning's Transient Shower.

Until We Are All Free, We Are None Of Us Free.

I Seem To Have Always One Little Window Looking But Into Life.

Life's Sharpest Rapture Is Surcease Of Pain.

Naught Is Too Small And Soft To Turn And Sting.