These stars of earth, these golden flowers.

Mercy more becomes a magistrate than the vindictive wrath which men call justice.

A boy's will is the wind's will.

Many a poem is marred by a superfluous verse.

O thou sculptor, painter, poet! Take this lesson to thy heart: That is best which lieth nearest; Shape from that thy work of art.

Then followed that beautiful season... Summer.... Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.

A boy's will is the wind's will, and the thought's of youth are long, long thoughhts