But all lost things are in the angels' keeping, Love; No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, Love; The years of Heaven with all earth's little pain Make Good Together there we can begin again, In babyhood.

But great loves, to the last, have pulses red; All great loves that have ever died dropped dead.

But all lost things are in the angels' keeping, Love; No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, Love; The years of Heaven with all earth's little pain Make Good Together there we can begin again, In babyhood.

If I can do one hundredth part for the Indian that Mrs. Stowe did for the Negro, I will be thankful.

The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down.

There is nothing so skillful in its own defense as imperious pride.

I know the lands are lit, with all the autumn blaze of Goldenrod.

Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame; Each to his passion; what's in a name?

There cannot be found in the animal kingdom a bat, or any other creature, so blind in its own range of circumstance and connection, as the greater majority of human beings are in the bosoms of their families.

When Time is spent, Eternity begins.

O sweet, delusive Noon, Which the morning climbs to find, O moment sped too soon, And morning left behind.

On the king's gate the moss grew gray; The king came not. They call'd him dead; And made his eldest son, one day, Slave in his father's stead.

O month when they who love must love and wed.

Great loves, to the last, have pulses red; All great loves that have ever died dropped dead.

As soon as I began, it seemed impossible to write fast enough - I wrote faster than I would write a letter - two thousand to three thousand words in a morning, and I cannot help it.

Words are less needful to sorrow than to joy.

When the baby dies, On every side Rose stranger's voices, hard and harsh and loud. The baby was not wrapped in any shroud. The mother made no sound. Her head was bowed That men's eyes might not see Her misery.

Love has a tide!

By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer's best of weather And autumn's best of cheer.

When love is at its best, one loves so much that he cannot forget.

Motherhood is priced Of God, at price no man may dare To lessen or misunderstand.

I shall be found with 'Indians' engraved on my brain when I am dead. A fire has been kindled within me, which will never go out.

If I could write a story that would do for the Indian one-hundredth part what 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' did for the Negro, I would be thankful the rest of my life.

The goldenrod is yellow The corn is turning brown The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down.

O suns and skies and clouds of June, And flowers of June together, Ye cannot rival for one hour October's bright blue weather.

Angels are like diamonds. They can't be made, you have to find them. Each one is unique.

It may be that when the angels go about their task praising God, they play only Bach. I am sure, however, that when they are together en famille they play Mozart.

You didn't hear the angels singing. It was brought down to Mother Earth, which is where it should be. And that led me to a lot of other reading.

The savior who wants to turn men into angels is as much a hater of human nature as the totalitarian despot who wants to turn them into puppets.

I don't see how I possibly could have come from where I entered the planet to where I am now if there had not been angels along the way.

Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as ravens claws.

Like Confucius of old, I am so absorbed in the wonder of the earth and the life upon it, that I cannot think of heaven and the angels.

But all lost things are in the angels' keeping, Love; No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, Love; The years of Heaven with all earth's little pain Make Good Together there we can begin again, In babyhood.

An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; legions of angels can't confine me there.

If I have freedom in my love, And in my soul am free, - Angels alone that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.

The righteousness of Jesus Christ is one of those great mysteries, which the angels desire to look into, and seems to be one of the first lessons that God taught men after the fall.

For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.

I like to refer to my years with the Angels as the foundation of my career.

The near stillness recalls what is forgotten, extinct angels.

What is government itself but the greatest of all reflections on human nature? If men were angels, no government would be necessary. If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary.

Whether the angels play only Bach praising God, I am not quite sure. I am sure, however, that en famille they play Mozart.

Make friends with the angels, who though invisible are always with you. Often invoke them, constantly praise them, and make good use of their help and assistance in all your temporal and spiritual affairs.

It is not known precisely where angels dwell whether in the air, the void, or the planets. It has not been God's pleasure that we should be informed of their abode.

I do not believe in God, angels and the hereafter.

There was no club but the Hells Angels as far as I was concerned.

Our acts our angels are, for good or ill, our fatal shadows that walk by us still.

In the Christian world... it is believed that angels were created at the beginning, and that heaven was formed of them; and that the Devil or Satan was an angel of light, who, becoming rebellions, was cast down with his crew, and that this was the origin of hell.

Angels possess greater powers than do human beings.

Yes, love indeed is light from heaven; A spark of that immortal fire with angels shared, by Allah given to lift from earth our low desire.