Neither evil tongues, rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all the dreary intercourse of daily life, shall ever prevail against us.

For all things are less dreadful than they seem.

Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows That for oblivion take their daily birth From all the fuming vanities of earth.

It is the 1st mild day of March. Each minute sweeter than before... there is a blessing in the air.

One with more of soul in his face than words on his tongue.

The feather, whence the pen Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men, Dropped from an angel's wing.

By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.