Often On Earth The Gentlest

There Is No Lighter Burden, Nor More Agreeable, Than A Pen.

Death Is A Sleep That Ends Our Dreaming. Oh, That We May Be Allowed To Wake Before Death Wakes Us.

Love Is The Crowning Grace Of Humanity, The Holiest Right Of The Soul, The Golden Link Which Binds Us To Duty And Truth, The Redeeming Principle That Chiefly Reconciles The Heart To Life, And Is Prophetic Of Eternal Good.

You Keep To Your Own Ways And Leave Mine To Me.

It May Be Only Glory That We Seek Here, But I Persuade Myself That, As Long As We Remain Here, That Is Right. Another Glory Awaits Us In Heaven And He Who Reaches There Will Not Wish Even To Think Of Earthly Fame.