There Are Words Which Cut Like Steel.

Glory Is The Sunshine Of The Dead

Love Knows Nothing Of Modesty.

Poetry Is Only Born After Painful Journeys Into The Vast Regions Of Thought.

Conviction Brings A Silent, Indefinable Beauty Into Faces Made Of The Commonest Human Clay; The Devout Worshiper At Any Shrine Reflects Something Of Its Golden Glow, Even As The Glory Of A Noble Love Shines Like A Sort Of Light From A Woman's Face.

The First Thing Necessary To Win The Heart Of A Woman Is Opportunity.