Art Speaks Only To The Mind, Whereas

Nature Has Not Changed. The Night Is Still Unsullied, The Stars Still Twinkle, And The Wild Thyme Smells As Sweetly Now As It Did Then ... We May Be Afflicted And Unhappy, But No One Can Take From Us The Sweet Delight Which Is Nature's Gift To Those Who Love Her And Her Poetry.

The Mind Has No Sex.

Love Without Reverence And Enthusiasm Is Only Friendship.

It Is Quite Wrong To Think Of Old Age As A Downward Slope. On The Contrary, One Climbs Higher And Higher With The Ad-vancing Years, And That, Too With Sur-prising Strides. Brain-work Comes As Easily To The Old As Physical Exertion To The Child. One Is Moving, It Is True, Towards The End Of Life, But That End Is Now A Goal, And Not A Reef In Which The Vessel May Be Dashed.

The Prayers Of A Lover Are More Imperious Than The Menaces Of The Whole World