There is no language that love does not speak.

We two make banquets of the plainest fare In every cup we find the thrill of pleasure... For us life always moves with lilting measure We two, we two, we make our world, our pleasure

Thou canst not force my soul to wish thee ill, That is the only evil that can kill.

Unwearied, and with springing steps elate, I had conveyed my wealth along the road. The empty sack proved now a heavier load: I was borne down beneath its worthless weight. I stumbled on, and knocked at Death's dark gate. There was no answer. Stung by sorrow's goad I forced my way into that grim abode, And laughed, and flung Life's empty sack to Fate.

All the past is not worth one today.

Always continue the climb. It is possible for you to do whatever you choose.

Trust in your own untried capacity.