And when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was the silence.

Sit in reverie and watch the changing color of the waves that break upon the idle seashore of the mind.

Life is the gift of God, and is divine.

Morality without religion is only a kind of dead reckoning - an endeavor to find our place on a cloudy sea by measuring the distance we have run, but without any observation of the heavenly bodies.

In December ring Every day the chimes; Loud the gleemen sing In the streets their merry rhymes. Let us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expire!

The air of summer was sweeter than wine.

Every man has his secret sorrows.