She Was No Longer Wrestling

The Worst Of Misery Is When A Nature Framed For Noblest Things Condemns Itself In Youth To Petty Joys, And, Sore Athirst For Air, Breathes Scanty Life Gasping From Out The Shallows.

I Think Cheerfulness Is A Fortune In Itself.

Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover

Under Every Guilty Secret There Is Hidden A Brood Of Guilty Wishes, Whose Unwholesome Infecting Life Is Cherished By The Darkness.

To Have Suffered Much Is Like Knowing Many Languages. Thou Hast Learned To Understand All.