I verily believe that I never took infant in my arms that did not the moment it was there by its cries beg to be removed.

I've been a dweller on the plains, have sighed when summer days were gone; No more I'll sigh; for winter here Hath gladsome gardens of his own.

I verily believe that I never took infant in my arms that did not the moment it was there by its cries beg to be removed.

I went through the fields, and sat for an hour afraid to pass a cow. The cow looked at me, and I looked at the cow, and whenever I stirred the cow gave over eating.

I found a strawberry blossom in a rock. I uprooted it rashly and felt as if I had been committing an outrage, so I planted it again.

Every question was like the snapping of a little thread about my heart.

The moonlight lay upon the hills like snow.