There is no sorrow under heaven which is, or ought to be, endless. To believe or to make it so, is an insult to Heaven itself. ~ Ch. 10

To have loved and lost, either by that total disenchantment which leaves compassion as the sole substitute for love which can exist no more, or by the slow tor…

It is a curious truth - and yet a truth forced upon us by daily observation - that it is not the women who have suffered most who are the unhappy women. A stat…

A lost love. Deny it who will, ridicule it, treat it as mere imagination and sentiment, the thing is and will be; and women do suffer therefrom, in all its inf…

There is no sorrow under heaven which is, or ought to be, endless. To believe or to make it so, is an insult to Heaven itself. ~ Ch. 10

Sometimes I worry that I've lost the plot My twitching muscles tease my flippant thoughts I never really dreamed of heaven much Until we put him in the ground.

Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight, At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more, When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death, And when he…