Art is much, but love is more.
I saw, in gradual vision through my tears, The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years, Those of my own life, who by turns had flung A shadow across me.
Thou large-brain'd woman and large-hearted man.
Love that endures, from life that disappears!
Light tomorrow with today!
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.