Love Is The River Of Life In

As The Imagination Is Set To Look Into The Invisible And Immaterial, It Seems To Attract Something Of Their Vitality; And Though It Can Give Nothing To The Body To Redeem It From Years, It Can Give To The Soul That Freshness Of Youth In Old Age Which Is Even More Beautiful Than Youth In The Young.

As Long As Society Is Absolutely Divided As Milk Is, The Cream Being At The Top And The Impoverished Milk At The Bottom, So Long Will Society Be Unbalanced, And Liable To Be Thrown Into Convulsions Out Of Which Will Spring Wars. A Circulation Throughout Keeps It In Health.

There Is Not A Single Heart But Has Its Moments Of Longing.

What If The Leaves Were To Fall A-weeping, And Say, "it Will Be So Painful For Us To Be Pulled From Our Stalks, When Autumn Comes?" Foolish Fear! Summer Goes, And Autumn Succeeds. The Glory Of Death Is Upon The Leaves; And The Gentlest Breeze That Blows Takes Them Softly And Silently From The Bough, And They Float Slowly Down, Like Fiery Sparks, Upon The Moss.

Every Man Should Be Born Again On The First Day Of January. Start With A Fresh Page