There Are Souls In This World Which

It Is Not The End Of Joy That Makes Old Age So Sad, But The End Of Hope.

The Miracle On Earth Are The Laws Of Heaven.

He Thought Of The Mouldering Child, Which Laid Its Withered Thin Arms Around His Soul, As If It Were His Own, And To Whom Death Had Given As Much As A God Gave To Endymion, — Sleep, Eternal Youth, And Immortality.

Has It Never Occurred To Us, When Surrounded By Sorrows, That They May Be Sent To Us Only For Our Instruction, As We Darken The Eyes Of Birds When We Wish Them To Sing?

A Woman Who Could Always Love Would Never Grow Old; And The Love Of Mother And Wife Would Often Give Or Preserve Many Charms If It Were Not Too Often Combined With Parental And Conjugal Anger. There Remains In The Face Of Women Who Are Naturally Serene And Peaceful, And Of Those Rendered So By Religion, An After-spring, And Later An After-summer, The Reflex Of Their Most Beautiful Bloom.