Some Arrows slay but whom they strike - But this slew all but him - Who so appareled his Escape - Too trackless for a Tomb

God's little Blond Blessing we have long deemed you, and hope his so-called Will will not compel him to revoke you.

To travel far, there is no better ship than a book.

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

The Soul selects her own Society.

To shut your eyes is to travel.

Expectation is contentment - Gain satiety.