There Is A Pain So Utter, It

I'll Tell You How The Sun Rose, A Ribbon At A Time. The Steeples Swam In Amethyst, The News Like Squirrels Ran. The Hills Untied Their Bonnets, The Bobolinks Begun. Then I Said Softly To Myself, "that Must Have Been The Sun!

To Be Alive──is Power.

A Precious, Mouldering Pleasure 't Is, To Meet An Antique Book, In Just The Dress His Century Wore; A Privilege I Think.

Success Is Counted Sweetest / By Those Who Ne'er Succeed.

Life Is A Spell So Exquisite That Everything Conspires To Break It.