The History Of Every Country Begins In

The Heart Of Another Is A Dark Forest, Always, No Matter How Close It Has Been To One's Own.

The History Of Every Country Begins In The Heart Of A Man Or A Woman.

In Little Towns, Lives Roll Along So Close To One Another; Loves And Hates Beat About, Their Wings Almost Touching.

William Tavener Never Heeded Ominous Forecasts In The Domestic Horizon, And He Never Looked For A Storm Until It Broke.

There Was A New Kind Of Strength In The Gravity Of Her Face, And Her Colors Still Gave Her That Look Of Deep-seated Health And Ardor.