The eye is the notebook of the poet.
Be He nowhere else, God is in all that liberates and lifts, in all that humbles, sweetens, and consoles.
Time makes ancient good uncouth.
The gift without the giver is rare.
Like streams that keep a summer mind Snow-hid in Jenooary.
Mishaps are like knives, that either serve us or cut us, as we grasp them by the blade or the handle.