In Women Everything Is Heart, Even The

I Have Made As Much Out Of Myself As Could Be Made Of The Stuff, And No Man Should Require More.

Repetition Is The Mother Of Education.

He Thought Of The Mouldering Child, Which Laid Its Withered Thin Arms Around His Soul, As If It Were His Own, And To Whom Death Had Given As Much As A God Gave To Endymion, — Sleep, Eternal Youth, And Immortality.

It Is Not Great, But Little Good-haps That Make Up Happiness.

Sorrows Gather Around Great Souls As Storms Do Around Mountains; But, Like Them, They Break The Storm And Purify The Air Of The Plain Beneath Them.