We Are All Architects Of

I Venerate Old Age; And I Love Not The Man Who Can Look Without Emotion Upon The Sunset Of Life, When The Dusk Of Evening Begins To Gather Over The Watery Eye, And The Shadows Of Twilight Grow Broader And Deeper Upon The Understanding.

The World Loves A Spice Of Wickedness.

The Human Voice Is The Organ Of The Soul.

Stay, Stay At Home, My Heart And Rest; Home-keeping Hearts Are Happiest.

The Smoking Flax Before It Burst To Flame Was Quenched By Death, And Broken The Bruised Reed.