Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, read more

Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch
Smokes in the sunthaw; whether the eve-drops fall,
Heard only in the trances of the blast,
Of if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
Quietly shining to the quiet moon.

And the spring comes slowly up this way.

And the spring comes slowly up this way.

Language is the armory of the human mind, and at once contains the trophies of its past and the weapons read more

Language is the armory of the human mind, and at once contains the trophies of its past and the weapons of its future conquests.

And the Devil did grin, for his darling sin is pride that apes humility.

And the Devil did grin, for his darling sin is pride that apes humility.

Advice is like snow -- the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into read more

Advice is like snow -- the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into the mind.