In My Garden I Spend My Days;

Fame Is But An Inscription On A Grave, And Glory The Melancholy Blazon On A Coffin Lid.

Christmas Is The Day That Holds All Time Together.

The Man Who In This World Can Keep The Whiteness Of His Soul Is Not Likely To Lose It In Any Other.

Trifles Make Up The Happiness Or The Misery Of Mortal Life.

Sweet April's Tears, Dead On The Hem Of May.