Emotions and Feelings

O Love, O fire! once he drew

 

Well, my daddy left home when I was three, And didn’t leave much to Ma and me, Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze. Now I don’t blame him because he run and hid, But the meanest thing he ever did was Before he left, he went and named me Sue.

 

You must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear; Tomorrow ’ill be the happiest time of all the glad New Year; Of all the glad New Year, mother, the maddest, merriest day; For I’m to be Queen o’ the May, mother, I’m to be Queen o’ the May.

 

Not only does democracy make everyman forget his ancestors, but it hides his descendants and separates his contemporaries from him; it throws him back forever upon himself alone and threatens to the end to confine him entirely within the solitude of his own heart.

But, once the realization is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances continue to exist, a wonderful living side by side can grow up, if they succeed in loving the distance between them which makes it possible for each to see the other whole and against a wide sky!

And this gray spirit yearning in desire

 

Home is so sad. It stays as it was left, Shaped to the comfort of the last to go As if to win them back.

Home is so sad. It stays as it was left, Shaped to the comfort of the last to go As if to win them back.

He suddenly became shy and developed a conceited grin—the grin of the village yokel whose cricket score is mentioned before a stranger.

He suddenly became shy and developed a conceited grin—the grin of the village yokel whose cricket score is mentioned before a stranger.

We should render a service to a friend to bind him closer to us, and to an enemy in order to make a friend of him.

Nothing is so frequent as to mistake an ordinary human gift for a special and extraordinary endowment.

No stranger can get a great many notes of torture out of a human soul; it takes one that knows it well,—parent, child, brother, sister, intimate.

I hate and love. You ask, perhaps, how that can be? / I know not, but I feel the agony.

I hate and love. You ask, perhaps, how that can be? / I know not, but I feel the agony.

The final test for a novel will be our affection for it, as it is the test of our friends, and of anything else which we cannot define.

It is the peculiarity of the bore that he is the last person to find himself out.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin

 

Friendship is not necessary, like philosophy, like art....

Friendship is...the sort of love one can imagine between angels.

There is no friend like an old friend who has shared our morning days, no greeting like his welcome, no homage like his praise.

Odd how much it hurts when a friend moves away- and leaves behind only silence.

Odd how much it hurts when a friend moves away- and leaves behind only silence.

Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens. J. R. R.