Write me of hope and love, and hearts that endured.
Noon - is the Hinge of Day-.
God's unique capacity is too surprising to surprise.
Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.
Affection is like bread, unnoticed till we starve, and then we dream of it, and sing of it, and paint it, when every urchin in the street has more than he can eat.
We turn not older with years but newer every day.