The Great Home Of The Soul Is

[hawthorne''s] Pious Blame Is A Chuckle Of Praise All The While.

There Is A Sixth Sense, The Natural Religious Sense, The Sense Of Wonder.

I Love Trying Things And Discovering How I Hate Them.

Marriage Is The Clue To Human Life, But There Is No Marriage Apart From The Wheeling Sun And The Nodding Earth, From The Strayingof The Planets And The Magnificence Of The Fixed Stars.

The Grim Frost Is At Hand, When Apples Will Fall Thick, Almost Thunderous, On The Hardened Earth.