What I do and what I dream include thee, as the wine must taste of its own grapes.

My future will not copy my fair past, I wrote that once. And, thinking at my side my ministering life-angel justified the word by his appealing look upcast to the white throne of God.

There, that is our secret: go to sleep! You will wake, and remember, and understand.

Suddenly, as rare things will, it vanished.

Silence is the best response to a fool.

You were made perfectly to be loved - and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my whole life long.

He's just, your cousin, ay, abhorrently, He'd wash his hands in blood, to keep them clean.