I died for beauty but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was lain In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed? "For beauty," I replied. "And I for truth, the two are one; We brethren are," he said. And so, as kinsmen met a night, We talked between the rooms, Until the moss had reached our lips, And covered up our names.

Forever is comprised of nows.

Good times are always mutual; that is what makes good times.

My life closed twice before its close

Twin loaves of bread have just been born into the world under my auspices. Fine children, the image of their mother. And here, my dear friend, is the glory.

God's unique capacity is too surprising to surprise.

You ask of my companions. Hills, sir, and the sundown, and a dog as large as myself.