Fading, with the Night, the memory of a dead love, and the withered leaves of a blighted hope, and the sickly repinings and moody regrets that numb the best energies of the soul: and rising, broadening, rolling upward like a living flood, the manly resolve, and the dauntless will, and the heavenward gaze of faith - the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen! 'Look Eastward! Aye, look Eastward!'

The West is the fitting tomb for all the sorrow and the sighing, all the errors and the follies of the Past: for all its withered Hopes and all its buried Love…

They did things very simply in those days: if you had a lot of money, you just dug a hole under the hedge, and popped it in: then you said you had 'put it in t…

He thought he saw a Banker's Clerk Descending from the bus: He looked again, and found it was A Hippopotamus: 'If this should stay to dine,' he said, 'There wo…

Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee.

O little town of Bethlehem, How still we see thee lie! Above thy deep and dreamless sleep The silent stars go by; Yet in thy dark streets shineth The everlasti…

'T is always morning somewhere in the world.