Night Brings Out Stars As Sorrow Shows

We Live In Deeds, Not Years; In Thoughts, Not Breaths; In Feelings, Not In Figures On A Dial.

Lowliness Is The Base Of Every Virtue, And He Who Goes The Lowest Builds The Safest.

The Heart Is Its Own Fate.

For As Nightingales Do Upon Glow-worms Feed, So Poets Live Upon The Living Light.

Sorrow Is A Stone That Crushes A Single Bearer To The Ground, While Two Are Able To Carry It With Ease.