The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
Every mental pursuit takes its reality and worth from the ardour of the pursuer.
Some say the world is a vale of tears, I say it is a place of soul-making.
You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.
My creed is love and you are its only tenet.
Who would wish to be among the commonplace crowd of the little famous - who are each individually lost in a throng made up of themselves?