In Haverford On The Platte The Townspeople

But She Still Had That Something Which Fires The Imagination, Could Still Stop One's Breath For A Moment By A Look Or Gesture That Somehow Revealed The Meaning In Common Things. She Had Only To Stand In The Orchard, To Put Her Hand On A Little Crab Tree And Look Up At The Apples, To Make You Feel The Goodness Of Planting And Tending And Harvesting At Last. All The Strong Things Of Her Heart Came Out In Her Body, That Had Been So Tireless In Serving Generous Emotions. It Was No Wonder That Her Sons Stood Tall And Straight. She Was A Rich Mine Of Life, Like The Founders Of Early Races.

Let People Go On Talking As They Like, And We Will Go On Living As We Think Best.

Men Travel Faster Now, But I Do Not Know If They Go To Better Things.

Even The Wicked Get Worse Than They Deserve.

Freedom So Often Means That One Isn't Needed Anywhere.