My Pen Shall Heal, Not Hurt.

I Am Sure We Should Not Shut Our Hearts Against The Healing Influences That Nature Offers Us. But I Understand Your Feeling. I Think We All Experience The Same Thing. We Resent The Thought That Anything Can Please Us When Someone We Love Is No Longer Here To Share The Pleasure With Us, And We Almost Feel As If We Were Unfaithful To Our Sorrow When We Find Our Interest In Life Returning To Us.

Who Would Endure Life If It Were Not For The Hope Of Death?

To Love Is Easy And Therefore Common - But To Understand - How Rare It Is!

I Am Quite Likely To Re-act To The Opposite Extreme - To Feel Rapturously That The World Is Beautiful And Mere Existence Something To Thank God For. I Suppose Our 'blues' Are The Price We Have To Pay For Our Temperament. 'the Gods Don't Allow Us To Be In Their Debt.' They Give Us Sensitiveness To Beauty In All Its Forms But The Shadow Of The Gift Goes With It.

In Imagination She Sailed Over Storied Seas That Wash The Distant Shining Shores Of "faëry Lands Forlorn," Where Lost Atlantis And Elysium Lie, With The Evening Star For Pilot, To The Land Of Heart's Desire. And She Was Richer In Those Dreams Than In Realities; For Things Seen Pass Away, But The Things That Are Unseen Are Eternal.