There Is No Faculty Of

Children Are Unpredictable. You Never Know What Inconsistency They Are Going To Catch You In Next.

Young Love Is A Flame; Very Pretty, Often Very Hot And Fierce, But Still Only Light And Flickering. The Love Of The Older And Disciplined Heart Is As Coals, Deep-burning, Unquenchable.

The Tree Is But A Huge Boquet.

Men Are Not Put Into This World To Be Everlastingly Played On By The Harping Fingers Of Joy.

Leaves Die, But Trees Do Not. They Only Undress.