London Is A Huge Shop, With A

The Truths Of Life Are Not Discovered By Us. At Moments Unforeseen, Some Gracious Influence Descends Upon The Soul, Touching It To An Emotion Which, We Know Not How, The Mind Transmutes Into Thought.

Money Is Made At Christmas Out Of Holly And Mistletoe, But Who Save The Vendors Would Greatly Care If No Green Branch Were Procurable?

Honest Winter, Snow Clad And With The Frosted Beard, I Can Welcome Not Uncordially; But That Long Deferment Of The Calendar's Promise, That Weeping Loom Of March And April, That Bitter Blast Outraging The Honor Of May - How Often Has It Robbed Me Of Heart And Hope.

People Have Got That Ancient Prejudice So Firmly Rooted In Their Heads That One Mustn't Write Save At I The Dictation Of The Holy Spirit. I Tell You, Writing Is A Business.

It Is Familiarity With Life That Makes Time Speed Quickly. When Every Day Is A Step In The Unknown, As For Children, The Days Are Long With Gathering Of Experience . . .