One Can Love Any Man That Is

Did You Ever Observe That Immoderate Laughter Always Ends In A Sigh?

The Golden Line Is Drawn Between Winter And Summer. Behind All Is Blackness And Darkness And Dissolution. Before Is Hope, And Soft Airs, And The Flowers, And The Sweet Season Of Hay; And People Will Cross The Fields, Reading Or Walking With One Another; And Instead Of The Rain That Soaks Death Into The Heart Of Green Things, Will Be The Rain Which They Drink With Delight; And There Will Be Sleep On The Grass At Midday, And Early Rising In The Morning, And Long Moonlight Evenings.

Patience And Gentleness Is Power.

Fishes Do Not Roar; They Cannot Express Any Sound Of Suffering; And Therefore The Angler Chooses To Think They Do Not Suffer, More Than It Is Convenient For Him To Fancy. Now It Is A Poor Sport That Depends For Its Existence On The Want Of A Voice In The Sufferer, And Of Imagination In The Sportsman.

Where The Mouth Is Sweet And The Eyes Intelligent, There Is Always The Look Of Beauty, With A Right Heart.