On Hallowe'en the old ghosts come about us, and they speak to some; to others they are dumb.

Dropt tears have hastened your decay, And brought you one step nigher death; And you have heard, unthrilled, unmoved, The music of Love's golden breath, And seen the light in eyes that loved. You think you hold the core and kernel, Of all the world beneath your crust, Old dial? But when you lie in dust, This vine will bloom, strong, green, and proved. Love is eternal.

Ecstasy cannot be constant, or it would kill.

No love-story has ever been told twice. I never heard any tale of lovers that did not seem to me as new as the world on its first morning.

He bent his head and kissed her long and deeply, and in that kiss neither knew themselves, or even each other, but something beyond all consciousness that was both of them.

Of what use to destroy the children of evil? It is evil itself we must destroy at the roots.

Upon your shattered ruins where, This vine will flourish still, as rare, As fresh, as fragrant as of old. Love will not crumble.