Eternity Doth Wear Upon Her

A Man's Real Possession Is His Memory. In Nothing Else Is He Rich, In Nothing Else Is He Poor.

Love Is But The Discovery Of Ourselves In Others, And The Delight In The Recognition.

The Pleased Sea On A White-breasted Shore-- A Shore That Wears On Her Alluring Brows Rare Shells, Far Brought, The Love-gifts Of The Sea, That Blushed A Tell-tale.

An Old Novel Has A History Of Its Own.

The Man Who In This World Can Keep The Whiteness Of His Soul Is Not Likely To Lose It In Any Other.