Letter-writing I imagine is counted as 'work' from which you must abstain, and I scribble this letter simply from the self-satisfied notion that you will like to hear from me. You see, I have asked no questions, which are the torture-screws of correspondence. Hence you have nothing to answer.

May every soul that touches mine - be it the slightest contact - get there from some good; some little grace; one kindly thought; one aspiration yet unfelt; one bit of courage for the darkening sky; one gleam of faith to brave the thickening ills of life; one glimpse of brighter skies beyond the gathering mists - to make this life worthwhile.

You are a good young man," she said. "But I do not like husbands. I will never have another.

Our deeds still travel with us from afar, and what we have been makes us what we are.

It is in the nature of foolish reasonings to seem good to the foolish reasoner.

Love supreme defies all sophistry.

We are led on, like little children, by a way we know not.