For now the poet cannot die, Nor leave his music as of old, But round him ere he … - Alfred Lord Tennyson

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All my life, I'd been on the receiving end of my mother's endless tenderness and vigilant care. Being allowed to care for her during her recovery was a gift – the most rewarding experience in my life.

Alfred Lord Tennyson

For now the poet cannot die, Nor leave his music as of old, But round him ere he scarce be cold Begins the scandal and the cry.

Cold, Music, Poet, Scandal

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the shell must break before the bird can fly.

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Sweet is every sound, sweeter the voice, but every sound is sweet.

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Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes.

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What the sunshine is to the flower, the Lord Jesus Christ is to my soul.

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The mighty hopes that make us men.

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Life is but a series of misunderstandings.

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Acheron. When it absolutely, positively must be destroyed overnight.

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Tragedy ought really to be a great kick at misery.

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