Lovers Embrace That Which Is Between Them

We Fear Death, Yet We Long For Slumber And Beautiful Dreams.

To Belittle, You Have To Be Little.

Miserable Is The Man Who Loves A Woman And Takes Her For His Wife, Pouring At Her Feet The Sweat Of His Skin And The Blood Of His Body And The Life Of His Heart, And Placing Her In The Hands Of The Fruit Of His Toil And The Revenue Of His Diligence; For When He Slowly Wakes Up, He Finds That The Heart That He Endeavored To Buy Is Given Away Freely And In Sincerity To Another Man For The Enjoyment Of Its Hidden Secrets And Deepest Love.

Life Is The Mistress To Be Wooed.

Out Of My Deeper Heart A Bird Rose And Flew Skywards. Higher And Higher Did It Rise, Yet Larger And Larger Did It Grow. At First It Was But Like A Swallow, Then A Lark, Then An Eagle, Then As Vast As A Spring Cloud, And Then It Filled The Starry Heavens. Out Of My Heart A Bird Flew Skywards. And It Waxed Larger As It Flew. Yet It Left Not My Heart.