“The best portion of a good man's life is his little, nameless, unremembered acts…” — William Wordsworth

But an old age serene and bright, and lovely as a Lapland night, shall lead thee to thy grave.

Pictures deface walls more often than they decorate them.

How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free down to its root, and in that freedom bold.

What we need is not the will to believe, but the wish to find out.