Those That Hope Little Cannot Grow Much.

Never Tell A Child 'you Have A Soul.' Teach Him, You Are A Soul; You Have A Body.

The Mind Of The Many Is Not The Mind Of God.

Light-leaved Acacias, By The Door, Stood Up In Balmy Air, Clusters Of Blossomed Moonlight Bore, And Breathed A Perfume Rare.

A Condition Which Of Declension Would Indicate A Devil, May Of Growth Indicate A Saint.

I Tell You, There Are More Worlds, And More Doors To Them, Than You Will Think Of In Many Years!