Salt Is Like Good-humor, And Nearly Every

Nothing Provokes Speculation More Than The Sight Of A Woman Enjoying Herself." -

Oft In The Silence Of The Night, When The Lonely Moon Rides High, When Wintry Winds Are Whistling, And We Hear The Owl's Shrill Cry, In The Quiet, Dusky Chamber, By The Flickering Firelight, Rising Up Between Two Sleepers, Comes A Spirit All In White.

Love Is A Flower That Grows In Any Soil, Works Its Sweet Miracles Undaunted By Autumn Frost Or Winter Snow, Blooming Fair And Fragrant All The Year, And Blessing Those Who Give And Those Who Receive.

We All Have Our Own Life To Pursue, Our Own Kind Of Dream To Be Weaving, And We All Have The Power To Make Wishes Come True, As Long As We Keep Believing.

A Little Kingdom I Possess, Where Thoughts And Feelings Dwell; And Very Hard The Task I Find Of Governing It Well.