Tree at my window, window tree, My sash is lowered when night comes on; But let there never be curtain drawn Between you and me.

The reason why worry kills more people than work is that more people worry than work.

Tree at my window, window tree, My sash is lowered when night comes on; But let there never be curtain drawn Between you and me.

I dwell with a strangely aching heart In that vanished abode there far apart

I'd like to get away from earth awhile And then come back to it and begin over. May no fate wilfully misunderstand me And half grant what I wish and snatch me away Not to return. Earth's the right place for love: I don't know where it's likely to go better.

The mind-is not the heart. I may yet live, as I know others live, To wish in vain to let go with the mind- Of cares, at night, to sleep; but nothing tells me That I need learn to let go with the heart.

Skepticism, is that anything more than we used to mean when we said, Well, what have we here?