We Have Not Wings We

The Soul...is Audible, Not Visible.

The Heart, Like The Mind, Has A Memory. And In It Are Kept The Most Precious Keepsakes.

Chill Air And Wintry Winds! My Ear Has Grown Familiar With Your Song; I Hear It In The Opening Year, I Listen, And It Cheers Me Long.

Simplicity Is The Character Of The Spring Of Life, Costliness Becomes Its Autumn; But A Neatness And Purity, Like That Of The Snow-drop Or Lily Of The Valley, Is The Peculiar Fascination Of Beauty, To Which It Lends Enchantment, And Gives What Amiability Is To The Mind.

They Who Live In History Only Seemed To Walk The Earth Again.