“ The sorrow that lay cold in her mother's heart... converted it into a tomb. ”
Love, whether newly born or aroused from a deathlike slumber, must always create sunshine, filling the heart so full of radiance, that it overflows upon the outward world.
~ Nathaniel Hawthorne
Oh, for the years I have not lived, but only dreamed of living.
Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp, but, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.
Death should take me while I am in the mood.
