I heard an angel speak last night/And he said, "Write!"

The essence of all beauty, I call love.

I, who had had my heart full for hours, took advantage of an early moment of solitude, to cry in it very bitterly. Suddenly a little hairy head thrust itself from behind my pillow into my face, rubbing its ears and nose against me in a responsive agitation, and drying the tears as they came.

The man, most man, works best for men: and, if most man indeed, he gets his manhood plainest from his soul.

And yet, because I love thee, I obtain From that same love this vindicating grace, To live on still in love, and yet in vain

A woman's always younger than a man at equal years.

Women know the way to rear up children (to be just). They know a simple, merry, tender knack of tying sashes, fitting baby-shoes, and stringing pretty words that make no sense. And kissing full sense into empty words.