Maxioms by Alexander Smith
We bury love,
Forgetfulness grows over it like grass;
That is a thing to weep for, not read more
We bury love,
Forgetfulness grows over it like grass;
That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.
The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.
The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.
Books are a finer world within the world.
Books are a finer world within the world.
A great man is the man who does something for the first time.
A great man is the man who does something for the first time.
Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in
the recognition.
Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in
the recognition.
