Imagination is not the exclusive appanage of artists but belongs in varying degrees to all men.
O month when they who love must love and wed.
If I could write a story that would do for the Indian one-hundredth part what...
If I can do one hundredth part for the Indian that Mrs. Stowe did for the...
As soon as I began it seemed impossible to write fast enough - I wrote...
O sweet delusive Noon Which the morning climbs to find O moment sped too...
Motherhood is priced Of God at price no man may dare To lessen or...
By all these lovely tokens September days are here With summer's best of...
When love is at its best one loves so much that he cannot forget.
