Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.

And I have written three books on the soul, Proving absurd all written hitherto, And putting us to ignorance again.

My sun sets to rise again.

You never know what life means till you die; even throughout life, tis death that makes life live.

I hold that a man should strive to the uttermost for his life's set prize.

God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.

Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.