Dec 12, 2025
Casey Bell, a New Jersey native and proud uncle, is a prolific author with over twenty books to his name. His literary journey began with Th
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Casey Bell, a New Jersey native and proud uncle, is a prolific author with over twenty books to his name. His literary journey began with Th
Casey Bell, a New Jersey native and proud uncle, is a prolific author with over twenty books to his name. His literary journey began with Th
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How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with a passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
"her hair as soft as a silver gold dying celandine"
" equipped with a small patriotic flag and a whistle"
Solitude
Laugh, and the world laughs with you ; Weep, and you weep alone, For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer ; Sigh, it is lost on the air. The echoes bound to a joyful sound, But are slow to voice your care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you ; Grieve, and they turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure, But they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many ; Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded ; Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed and give, and it helps you live, But no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure For a large and lordly train, But one by one we must all file on Through the narrow aisles of pain.
ELLA WHEELER.
"..above Bessie's fevered head was a half-tester"
"..Charles Reade's The Cloister and the Hearth"