Nature Is Always Hinting At Us. It

Now No Joy But Lacks Salt That Is Not Dashed With Pain And Weariness And Fault; I Crave The Stain Of Tears, The Aftermark Of Almost Too Much Love, The Sweet Of Bitter Bark And Burning Clove.

The People I Am Most Afraid Of Are Those Who Are The Most Afraid.

I Do Not See Why I Should E’er Turn Back, Or Those Should Not Set Forth Upon My Track To Overtake Me, Who Should Miss Me Here And Long To Know If Still I Held Them Dear. They Would Not Find Me Changed From Him They Knew — Only More Sure Of All I Thought Was True.

My Goal In Life Is To Unite My Avocation With My Vocation, As My Two Eyes Make One In Sight.

Come Grow Old With Me, For The Best Is Yet To Come!