Stop And Consider! Life Is But A

I Must Choose Between Despair And Energy──i Choose The Latter.

The Roaring Of The Wind Is My Wife And The Stars Through The Window Pane Are My Children. The Mighty Abstract Idea I Have Of Beauty In All Things Stifles The More Divided And Minute Domestic Happiness.

Call The World If You Please "the Vale Of Soul-making." Then You Will Find Out The Use Of The World.

In A Drear-nighted December, Too Happy, Happy Brook, Thy Bubblings Ne'er Remember Apollo's Summer Look; But With A Sweet Forgetting, They Stay Their Crystal Fretting, Never, Never Petting About The Frozen Time.

To Stay Youthful, Stay Useful.