To each individual the world will take on a different connotation of meaning-the important lies in the desire to search for an answer.

And through the spaces of the dark Midnight shakes the memory As a madman shakes a dead geranium.

So the lover must struggle for words.

And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices in the lost lilac and the lost sea voices and the weak spirit quickens to rebel for the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell quickens to recover.

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be: am an attendant lord, one that will do to swell a progress, start a scene or two, advise the prince.

Death has a hundred hands and walks by a thousand ways.

There is no method but to be very intelligent.