It Is Simpler And Easier To Flatter

Our Birthdays Are Feathers In The Broad Wing Of Time.

For The Infinite Has Sowed His Name In The Heavens In Burning Stars, But On The Earth He Has Sowed His Name In Tender Flowers.

Never Part Without Loving Words To Think Of During Your Absence. It May Be That You Will Not Meet Again In This Life.

The Last, Best Fruit Which Comes To Late Perfection, Even In The Kindliest Soul, Is Tenderness Toward The Hard, Forbearance Toward The Unforbearing, Warmth Of Heart Toward The Cold, Philanthropy Toward The Misanthropic.

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.