She Could No Longer Borrow From The

Keep The Imagination Sane--that Is One Of The Truest Conditions Of Communion With Heaven.

Every Crime Destroys More Edens Than Our Own

It Is Not Strange That That Early Love Of The Heart Should Come Back, As It So Often Does When The Dim Eye Is Brightening With Its Last Light. It Is Not Strange That The Freshest Fountains The Heart Has Ever Known In Its Wastes Should Bubble Up Anew When The Lifeblood Is Growing Stagnant. It Is Not Strange That A Bright Memory Should Come To A Dying Old Man, As The Sunshine Breaks Across The Hills At The Close Of A Stormy Day; Nor That In The Light Of That Ray, The Very Clouds That Made The Day Dark Should Grow Gloriously Beautiful.

Moonlight Is Sculpture.

Mountains Are Earth's Undecaying Monuments.