Soon Is The Struggle Past, And To

Arrow-swift The Present Sweepeth, And Motionless Forever Stands The Past.

There Are Evil Spirits Who Suddenly Fix Their Abode In Man's Unguarded Breast, Causing Us To Commit Devilish Deeds, And Then, Hurrying Back To Their Native Hell, Leave Behind The Stings Of Remorse In The Poisoned Bosom.

If The Art Of Gardening Is At Last To Turn Back From Her Extravagances And Rest With Her Other Sisters, It Is, Above Everything, Necessary To Have Clearly Before You What You Require . . . It Is Certainly Tasteless And Inconsistent To Desire To Encompass The World With A Garden-wall, But Very Practicable And Reasonable To Make A Garden . . . Into A Characteristic Whole To The Eye, Heart, And Nderstanding Alike.

What Is Life Without The Radiance Of Love?

Yet Have I Ever Heard It Said That Spies And Tale-bearers Have Done More Mischief In This World Than Poisoned Bowl Or The Assassin's Dagger.