So mothers have God's license to be missed.

I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless.

Souls are dangerous things to carry straight through all the spilt saltpetre of this world.

Why, what is to live? Not to eat and drink and breathe,—but to feel the life in you down all the fibres of being, passionately and joyfully.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

Whoso loves, believes in the impossible

An ignorance of means may minister to greatness, but an ignorance of aims make it impossible to be great at all.