We both believe, and disbelieve a hundred times an hour, which keeps believing nimble.
Love is everything. And that's all we know about it.
Hope is a thing with feathers
I work to drive the awe away, yet awe impels the work.
The dearest ones of time, the strongest friends of the soul--BOOKS.
When he tells us about his Father, we distrust him. When he shows us his Home, we turn away, but when he confides to us that he is acquainted with grief, we listen, for that also is an acquaintance of our own.