When The Poet Died His Cat Was

Who Over-refines His Argument Brings Himself To Grief

I Would Have Preferred To Have Been Born In Any Other Time Than Our Own.

Love Is The Crowning Grace Of Humanity, The Holiest Right Of The Soul, The Golden Link Which Binds Us To Duty And Truth, The Redeeming Principle That Chiefly Reconciles The Heart To Life, And Is Prophetic Of Eternal Good.

Hope Is Incredible To The Slave Of Grief.

Suspicion Is The Cancer Of Friendship.