“A beam in darkness: let it grow.”

Rich in saving common-sense, And, as the greatest only are, In his simplicity sublime.

Trust me not at all, or all in all.

Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.

The world which credits what is done is cold to all that might have been.

I can’t sleep without knowing there’s hope. Half the night I waste in sighs. In a wakeful doze I sorrow. For the hands, for the lips… the eyes. For the meeting of tomorrow.

I am a part of all that I have met.

Her eyes are homes of silent prayers.

Theirs is not to make reply: Theirs is not to reason why: Theirs is but to do and die.

The quiet sense of something lost.

God’s finger touched him, and he slept.

Cleave ever to the sunnier side of doubt.

I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.

The parting of a husband and wife is like the cleaving of a heart; one half will flutter here, one there.

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you. I could walk through my garden forever.

My doom is, I love thee still. Let no man dream but that I love thee still.

Life is brief but love is LONG .

Then when the fugitive word was least expecting it I would suddenly turn the full blaze of my attention back onto it catching the culprit in the beam of my mental torch before it could sneak off again into the darkness.

Happiness is being on the beam with life – to feel the pull of life

Truth is as impossible to be soiled by any outward touch as the sunbeam.

I cannot cause light; the most I can do is try to put myself in the path of its beam. It is possible, in deep space, to sail on solar wind. Light, be it particle or wave, has force: you rig a giant sail and go. The secret of seeing is to sail on solar wind.

The morning beam is telling me that it’s action time!