The Heart Is An Astrologer

These Flowers, Which Were Splendid And Sprightly, Waking In The Dawn Of The Morning, In The Evening Will Be A Pitiful Frivolity, Sleeping In The Cold Night's Arms.

For Even In Dreams A Good Deed Is Not Lost.

If A Pretty Woman Only Knew How Anger Improved Her Beauty! Her Complexion Needs No Other Paint Than Indignation.

Light-enchanted Sunflower, Thou Who Gazest Ever True And Tender On The Sun's Revolving Splendour.

All Life Is A Dream, And All Dreams Are Dreams.