There Is No Frigate Like A Book

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers That Perches In The Soul.

Look Back On Time With Kindly Eyes, He Doubtless Did His Best; How Softly Sinks His Trembling Sun In Human Nature's West!

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers That Perches In The Soul - And Sings The Tunes Without The Words - And Never Stops At All.

Memory Is A Strange Bell—jubilee, And Knell.

I Dwell In Possibility A Fairer House Than Prose More Numerous Of Windows Superior--for Doors Of Chambers As The Cedars Impregnable Of Eye And For An Everlasting Roof The Gambrels Of The Sky Of Visitors--the Fairest For Occupation--this The Spreading Wide My Narrow Hands To Gather Paradise