Prayer for worldly goods is worse than fruitless, but prayer for strength of soul is that passion of the soul which catches the gift it seeks.

I know him, February's thrush, And loud at eve he valentines On sprays that paw the naked bush Where soon will sprout the thorns and bines.

The most dire disaster in love is the death of imagination.

See ye not, Courtesy is the true Alchemy, turning to gold all it touches and tries?

Earth knows no desolation. She smells regeneration in the moist breath of decay.

What a dusty answer gets the soul When hot for certainties in this our life!

God's rarest blessing is, after all, a good woman!