The Desire Of Gold Is Not For

Silent Rushes The Swift Lord Through Ruined Systems Still Restored, Broadsowing, Bleak And Void To Bless, Plants With Worlds The Wilderness; Waters With Tears Of Ancient Sorrow Apples Of Eden Ripe To-morrow. House And Tenant Go To Ground, Lost In God, In Godhead Found.

No Rent-roll Nor Army-list Can Dignify Skulking And Dissimulation: And The First Point Of Courtesy Must Always Be Truth, As Really All The Forms Of Good-breeding Point That Way.

A Little Fact Is Worth A Whole Limbo Of Dreams.

Our Reliance On The Physician Is A Kind Of Despair Of Ourselves.

A Woman's Strength Is The Unresistible Might Of Weakness.