Forever Is Composed Of Nows.

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!

Portrait The World Spreads Out On Either Side No Farther Than The Heart Is Wide.

The Dearest Ones Of Time, The Strongest Friends Of The Soul--books.

To Travel Far, There Is No Better Ship Than A Book.

The Soul Selects Her Own Society.