Truth crushed to the earth will rise again!

The air was fragrant with a thousand trodden aromatic herbs, with fields of lavender, and with the brightest roses blushing in tufts all over the meadows.

Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go; the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.

There is no glory in star or blossom till looked upon by a loving eye; There is no fragrance in April breezes till breathed with joy as they wander by.

Poetry is the eloquence of verse.

Music is not merely a study, it is an entertainment; wherever there is music there is a throng of listeners.

And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, and the year smiles as it draws near its death.