Granting Our Wish Is One

Fate Loves The Fearless.

What Men Prize Most Is A Privilege, Even If It Be That Of Chief Mourner At A Funeral.

The Pale And Quiet Moon Makes Her Calm Forehead Bare, And The Last Fragments Of The Storm, Like Shattered Rigging From A Fight At Sea, Silent And Few, Are Drifting Over Me.

The Riches Of Scholarship, The Benignities Of Literature, Defy Fortune And Outlive Calamity. They Are Beyond The Reach Of Thief Or Moth Or Rust. As They Cannot Be Inherited, So They Cannot, Be Alienated.

Love Lives On, And Hath A Power To Bless When They Who Loved Are Hidden In The Grave.