She Had...the Glimmerings Of A Sense Of

Have You Ever Noticed That When People Say It Is Their Duty To Tell You A Certain Thing You May Prepare For Something Disagreeable? Why Is It That They Never Seem To Think It A Duty To Tell You The Pleasant Things They Hear About You?

The Woods Are Never Solitary — They Are Full Of Whispering, Beckoning, Friendly Life. But The Sea Is A Mighty Soul, Forever Moaning Of Some Great, Unshareable Sorrow, Which Shuts It Up Into Itself For All Eternity. We Can Never Pierce Its Infinite Mystery — We May Only Wander, Awed And Spellbound, On The Outer Fringe Of It. The Woods Call To Us With A Hundred Voices, But The Sea Has One Only — A Mighty Voice.

When I Read That The Flash Came, And I Took A Sheet Of Paper. . .and I Wrote On It: I, Emily Byrd Starr, Do Solemnly Vow This Day That I Will Climb The Alpine Path And Write My Name On The Scroll Of Fame.

It Was In The Spring That Josephine And I Had First Loved Each Other, Or, At Least, Had First Come Into The Full Knowledge That We Loved. I Think That We Must Have Loved Each Other All Our Lives, And That Each Succeeding Spring Was A Word In The Revelation Of That Love, Not To Be Understood Until, In The Fullness Of Time, The Whole Sentence Was Written Out In That Most Beautiful Of All Beautiful Springs.

It Makes You Feel Very Virtuous When You Forgive People, Doesn't It?