The Soul...is Audible, Not Visible.

Love Gives Itself; It Is Not Bought.

A Thought Often Makes Us Hotter Than A Fire.

Nothing That Is Can Pause Or Stay; / The Moon Will Wax, The Moon Will Wane, / The Mist And Cloud Will Turn To Rain, / The Rain To Mist And Cloud Again, / Tomorrow Be Today.

How Can I Tell The Signals And The Signs By Which One Heart Another Heart Divines? How Can I Tell The Many Thousand Ways By Which It Keeps The Secret It Betrays?

Winter Giveth The Fields, And The Trees So Old, Their Beards Of Icicles And Snow.