Poet's Food Is Love And

That Sweet Sleep Which Medicines All Pain.

Sometimes It's Better To Put Love Into Hugs Than To Put It Into Words. Soul Meets Soul On Lovers' Lips.

Peace, Peace! He Is Not Dead, He Doth Not Sleep - He Hath Awakened From The Dream Of Life - 'tis We, Who Lost In Stormy Visions, Keep With Phantoms An Unprofitable Strife.

Words Are But Holy As The Deeds They Cover.

I Have Been A Wanderer Among Distant Fields. I Have Sailed Down Mighty Rivers.