O the anguish of the thought that we can never atone to our dead for the stinted affection we gave them.

That golden sky, which was the doubly blessed symbol of advancing day and of approaching rest.

It always remains true that if we had been greater, circumstance would have been less strong against us.

This is a puzzling world, and Old Harry's got a finger in it.

It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are thoroughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger after them.

The best part of a woman's love is worship; but it is hard to her to be sent away with her precious spikenard rejected, and her long tresses, too, that were let fall, ready to soothe the wearied feet.

Hear Everything and judge for yourself