As I Gaze Upon The Sea! All

It Is A Beautiful Trait In The Lover's Character, That They Think No Evil Of The Object Loved.

Some Critics Are Like Chimney-sweepers; They Put Out The Fire Below, And Frighten The Swallows From Their Nests Above; They Scrape A Long Time In The Chimney, Cover Themselves With Soot, And Bring Nothing Away But A Bag Of Cinders, And Then Sing From The Top Of The House As If They Had Built It.

That Tree Is Very Old, But I Never Saw Prettier Blossoms On It Than It Now Bears. That Tree Grows New Wood Each Year. Like That Apple Tree, I Try To Grow A New Little Wood Each Year.

A Boy's Will Is The Wind's Will.

Life Hath Quicksands, Life Hath Snares!