Make Not Thyself The Judge Of Any

The Story, From Beginning To End, I Found Again In A Heart Of A Friend.

It Is Autumn; Not Without But Within Me Is The Cold. Youth And Spring Are All About; It Is I That Have Grown Old.

It Is True, That It Is Not At All Necessary To Love Many Books, In Order To Love Them Much.

The Wreck Of The Hesperus But The Father Answered Never A Word, A Frozen Corpse Was He.

Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall.