God - But A Word Invoked To

Shall Not This Bygone Eden That We Knew In Our Eternal Life Have Shape And Hue? For Where Time Is Not Shall Not All Time Be? In That Calm Breast Whereto Our Souls Are Cleaving Shall We Not Find Our Loved Ones Beyond Grieving About The Hearth-stone Of Eternity?

Let Us Enjoy The Fugitive Hour. Man Has No Harbor, Time Has No Shore; It Rushes On, And Carries Us With It.

Nature Has Given Women Two Painful But Heavenly Gifts, Which Distinguish Them, And Often Raise Them Above Human Nature,--compassion And Enthusiasm. By Compassion, They Devote Themselves; By Enthusiasm They Exalt Themselves.

Before This Century Shall Run Out, Journalism Will Be The Whole Press. Mankind Will Write Their Book Day By Day, Hour By Hour, Page By Page. Thought Will Spread Abroad With The Rapidity Of Light--instantly Conceived, Instantly Written, Instantly Understood At The Extremities Of The Earth.

Poetry Is The Morning Dream Of Great Minds.