In the world of dreams, I have chosen my part.
Life is the lust of a lamp for the light that is dark till the dawn of the day that we die.
Body and spirit are twins: God only knows which is which.
On the mountains of memory by the world's wellsprings, in all man's eyes, where the light of life of him is on all past things, death only dies.
There grows No herb of help to heal a coward heart.
There lived a singer in France of old By the tideless dolorous midland sea. In a land of sand and rain and gold There shone one woman, and none but she.