If You Are Stone, Be Magnetic; If

Every Day Has Its Great Grief Or Its Small Anxiety. ... One Cloud Is Dispelled, Another Forms. There Is Hardly One Day In A Hundred Of Real Joy And Bright Sunshine.

He Was Fond Of Books, For They Are Cool And Sure Friends

Nobody Knows Like A Woman How To Say Things At The Same Time Sweet And Profound. Sweetness And Depth, This Is All Of Woman; This Is All Of Heaven.

Thought Is The Labor Of The Intellect, Reverie Is Its Pleasure.

Should We Continue To Look Upwards? Is The Light We Can See In The Sky One Of Those Which Will Presently Be Extinguished? The Ideal Is Terrifying To Behold... Brilliant But Threatened On All Sides By The Dark Forces That Surround It: Nevertheless, No More In Danger Than A Star In The Jaws Of The Clouds.