Time Can Make Soft That

Under My Head Till Morning; But The Rain, Is Full Of Ghosts Tonight, That Tap And Sigh, Upon The Glass And Listen For Reply.

I Would Blossom If I Were A Rose.

I Am Not At All In Favor Of Hard Work For Its Own Sake; Many People Who Work Very Hard Indeed Produce Terrible Things, And Should Most Certainly Not Be Encouraged.

I Am Waylaid By Beauty.

Life Must Go On, Though Good Men Die.