Learn To Labour And To Wait.

All Nature ... Is A Respiration Of The Spirit Of God, Who, In Breathing Hereafter Will Inhale It Into His Bosom Again, So That Nothing But God Alone Will Remain.

See Yonder Little Cloud, That, Borne Aloft So Tenderly By The Wind, Floats Fast Away Over The Snowy Peaks!

Like A French Poem Is Life; Being Only Perfect In Structure When With The Masculine Rhymes Mingled The Feminine Are.

So Disasters Come Not Singly; But As If They Watched And Waited, Scanning One Another's Motions, When The First Descends, The Others Follow, Follow, Gathering Flock-wiseround Their Victim, Sick And Wounded, First A Shadow, Then A Sorrow, Till The Air Is Dark With Anguish.

The Heart, Like The Mind, Has A Memory. And In It Are Kept The Most Precious Keepsakes.