How Many Desolate Creatures On The Earth

What Frightens Me Is That Men Are Content With What Is Not Life At All.

Earth's Crammed With Heaven, And Every Common Bush Afire With God: But Only He Who Sees Takes Off His Shoes.

O Rose, Who Dares To Name Thee? No Longer Roseate Now, Nor Soft, Nor Sweet, But Pale, And Hard, And Dry, As Stubblewheat, Kept Seven Years In A Drawer, Thy Titles Shame Thee.

Much Of The Possibility Of Being Cheerful Comes From The Faculty Of Throwing Oneself Beyond Oneself.

If We Tried To Sink The Past Beneath Our Feet, Be Sure The Future Would Not Stand.