What we live by we die by.

In A Glass of Cider It seemed I was a mite of sediment That waited for the bottom to ferment So I could catch a bubble in ascent. I rode up on one till the bubble burst, And when that left me to sink back reversed I was no worse off than I was at first. I'd catch another bubble if I waited. The thing was to get now and then elated.

Our very life depends on everything's Recurring till we answer from within.

Life must be kept up at a great rate in order to absorb any considerable amount of learning.

Belief is better than anything else, and it is best when rapt - above paying its respects to anybody's doubt whatsoever.

That day she put our heads together, Fate had her imagination about her, Your head so much concerned with outer, Mine with inner, weather.

Lovers, forget your love And list to the love of these She a window flower And he a winter breeze.