Anger As Soon As Fed Is Dead-

The Dearest Ones Of Time, The Strongest Friends Of The Soul--books.

Of Consciousness, Her Awful Mate. The Soul Cannot Be Rid - As Easy The Secreting Her Behind The Eyes Of God.

The Words The Happy Say Are Paltry Melody But Those The Silent Feel Are Beautiful-.

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers That Perches In The Soul - And Sings The Tunes Without The Words - And Never Stops At All.

I Do Not Like The Man Who Squanders Life For Fame; Give Me The Man Who Living Makes A Name.