The shadows of the mind are like those of the body. In the morning of life they all lie behind us; at noon we trample them under foot; and in the evening they stretch long, broad, and deepening before us.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowIt is a beautiful trait in the lover's character, that they think no evil of the object loved.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowArt is the child of nature in whom we trace the features of the mothers face.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowFor it is the fate of a woman Long to be patient and silent, to wait like a ghost that is speechless, Till some questioning voice dissolves the spell of its silence. Hence is the inner life of so many suffering women Sunless and silent and deep, like subterranean rivers Runnng through caverns of darkness.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow