I Flutter All Ways, And Fly In

Nothing Is So Good As It Seems Beforehand.

Dark The Night, With Breath All Flowers, And Tender Broken Voice That Fills With Ravishment The Listening Hours,-- Whisperings, Wooings, Liquid Ripples, And Soft Ring-dove Cooings In Low-toned Rhythm That Love's Aching Stills! Dark The Night Yet Is She Bright, For In Her Dark She Brings The Mystic Star, Trembling Yet Strong, As Is The Voice Of Love, From Some Unknown Afar.

Hatred Is Like Fire, It Makes Even Light Rubbish Deadly.

It Is Surely Better To Pardon Too Much, Than To Condemn Too Much.

I Desire No Future That Will Break The Ties Of The Past.