Beauty Crowds Me Till I Die.

Here Is A Little Forest Whose Leaf Is Ever Green; Here Is A Brighter Garden, Where Not A Frost Has Been; In Its Unfading Flowers I Hear The Bright Bee Hum; Prithee, My Brother, Into My Garden Come!

People Need Hard Times And Oppression To Develop Psychic Muscles.

The Only Secret People Keep Is Immortality.

Not To Discover Weakness Is The Artifice Of Strength.

I Dwell In Possibility.