And he who has dwelt with his heart alone, Hears all the music in friendship's tone. So better and better I comprehend How sorrow ever would be our friend.

Moon and Sea You are the moon, dear love, and I the sea: The tide of hope swells high within my breast, And hides the rough dark rocks of life's unrest When your fond eyes smile near in perigee. But when that loving face is turned from me, Low falls the tide, and the grim rocks appear, And earth's dim coast-line seems a thing to fear. You are the moon, dear one, and I the sea.

The dark today leads into light tomorrow. There is no endless joy, and yet no endless sorrow.

Distrust that man who tells you to distrust. He takes the measure of his own small soul, and thinks the world no larger.

There is no chance, no destiny, no fate, that can circumvent or hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul.

Better to wait and yearn, and still to wait, And die at last with unappeased desire, Than live to be the jest of such a fate, For that is my conception of hell-fire.

There is nothing ridiculous in love.