The Things that never can come back, are several - Childhood - some forms of Hope - the Dead.

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.

A great hope fell You heard no noise The ruin was within.

The things of which we want the proof are those we know the best.

a sick room is at times too sacred a place for a friend's knock, timid as that is.

That love is all there is, Is all we know of love.

Hold dear to your parents for it is a scary and confusing world without them.