The Heart's Affections Are Divided Like The

Exaggeration Is Truth That Has Lost Its Temper.

Tolerance Is Love Sick With The Sickness Of Haughtiness.

She Danced The Dance Of Flames And Fire, And The Dance Of Swords And Spears; She Danced The Dance Of Stars And The Dance Of Space, And Then She Danced The Dance Of Flowers In The Wind.

My Friends: Music Is The Language Of Spirits. Its Melody Is Like The Frolicsome Breeze That Makes The Strings Quiver With Love. When The Gentle Fingers Of Music Knock At The Door Of Our Feelings, They Awaken Memories That Have Long Lain Hidden In The Depths Of The Past. The Sad Strains Of Music Bring Us Mournful Recollections; And Her Quiet Strains Bring Us Joyful Memories. The Sound Of Strings Makes Us Weep At The Departure Of A Dear One, Or Makes Us Smile At The Peace God Has Bestowed Upon Us.

I Would Tell You More Of Him, But How Shall I? When Love Becomes Vast Love Becomes Wordless. And When Memory Is Overladen It Seeks The Silent Deep.