You may have genius. The contrary is, of course, probable.

Youth fades, love droops, the leaves of friendship fall; A mother's secret hope outlives them all.

There is no friend like an old friend who has shared our morning days, no greeting like his welcome, no homage like his praise.

It's faith in something and enthusiasm for something that makes a life worth living.

Language is the blood of the soul into which thoughts run and out of which they grow.

Cupid "the little greatest enemy."

The morning cup of coffee has an exhilaration about it which the cheering influence of the afternoon or evening cup of tea cannot be expected to reproduce.