There is something terribly morbid in the modern sympathy with pain. One should sympathise with the colour, the beauty, the read more

There is something terribly morbid in the modern sympathy with pain. One should sympathise with the colour, the beauty, the joy of life. The less said about life's sores the better.

Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
read more

Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
Making it momentany as a sound,
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream,
Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,
And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!'
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
So quick bright things come to confusion.

Our souls sit close and silently within,
And their own web from their own entrails spin;
And read more

Our souls sit close and silently within,
And their own web from their own entrails spin;
And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such,
That, spider like, we feel the tenderest touch.

We pine for kindred natures
To mingle with our own.

We pine for kindred natures
To mingle with our own.

Friends are the pillars on your porch. Sometimes they hold you up, sometimes they lean on you, and sometimes it's read more

Friends are the pillars on your porch. Sometimes they hold you up, sometimes they lean on you, and sometimes it's just enough to know that they are standing by.

Of a truth, men are mystically united: a mystic bond of
brotherhood makes all men one.

Of a truth, men are mystically united: a mystic bond of
brotherhood makes all men one.

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds.

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds.

A sympathetic heart is like a spring of pure water bursting forth from the mountain side.

A sympathetic heart is like a spring of pure water bursting forth from the mountain side.

Somewhere or other there must surely be
The face not seen, the voice not heard,
The heart read more

Somewhere or other there must surely be
The face not seen, the voice not heard,
The heart that not yet--never yet--ah me!
Made answer to my word.