When Time is spent, Eternity begins.

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.

To see a world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower Hold infinity in the palms of your hand and eternity in an hour.

Hope is the struggle of the soul, breaking loose from what is perishable, and attesting her eternity.

We don't have an eternity to realize our dreams, only the time we are here.

The future and eternity are two entirely different things.

A hundredth of a second here, a hundredth of a second there - even if you put them end to end, they still only add up to one, two, perhaps three seconds, snatched from eternity.

I was born in 1961. Now I think the 16 years that elapsed between 1961 and the end of the wars is nothing. To a child growing up it felt like an eternity, an entirely different world.

War is eternity jammed into frantic minutes that will fill a lifetime with dreams and nightmares.

Death is the golden key that opens the palace of eternity.

Life is the fire that burns and the sun that gives light. Life is the wind and the rain and the thunder in the sky. Life is matter and is earth, what is and what is not, and what beyond is in Eternity.

To see the world in a grain of sand, and to see heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hands, and eternity in an hour.

The realm of immediate or personal knowledge is a narrow circle in which these bodies move; the realm of knowledge derived through faith is as wide as the universe, and old as eternity.

A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell, where his influence stops.

Beauty is a precious trace that eternity causes to appear to us and that it takes away from us. A manifestation of eternity, and a sign of death as well.

God exists in eternity. The only point where eternity meets time is in the present. The present is the only time there is.

Every action of our lives touches on some chord that will vibrate in eternity.

Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.

Time is but the shadow of the world upon the background of Eternity.

Opinions alter, manners change, creeds rise and fall, but the moral laws are written on the table of eternity.

But it is the province of religion, of philosophy, of pure poetry only, to go beyond life, beyond time, into eternity.

When the rose and the cross are united the alchemical marriage is complete and the drama ends. Then we wake from history and enter eternity.

Trust in dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

There are tons of people I'd like to freeze for all of eternity, but we won't go into that!

This is the artist, then, life's hungry man, the glutton of eternity, beauty's miser, glory's slave.

Rest, rest, shall I have not all eternity to rest.