A philosopher being asked what was the first thing necessary to win the love of a woman, answered, Opportunity!

Every season hath its pleasure; Spring may boast her flowery prime, Yet the vineyard's ruby treasuries Brighten Autumn's sob'rer time.

It is precisely because we resist the darkness in ourselves that we miss the depths of the loveliness, beauty, brilliance, creativity, and joy that lie at our core.

Rich and rare were the gems she wore, And a bright gold ring on her hand she bore.

This is the right time, and this is the right thing.

When Time who steals our years away Shall steal our pleasures too, The mem'ry of the past will stay, And half our joys renew.

Faith, Fanatic faith, once wedded fast to some dear falsehood, hugs it to the last.