And remember$$$ the truth that once was spoken: To love another person is to see the face of God.

There is always more misery among the lower classes than there is humanity in the higher.

...Nobody knows like a woman how to say things that are both sweet and profound. Sweetness and depth$$$ this is all of woman; this is Heaven.

He who opens a school door$$$ closes a prison.

To love another person is to see the face of God.

Sometimes a crumb falls from the tables of joy. Sometimes a bone's flung. To some people$$$ love is given$$$ to others only heaven.

I loved my friend. He went away from me. There's nothing more to say. The poem ends$$$ soft as it began—I loved my friend.

Being alone means you have fewer problems.

I'm a good person. In most ways. But I'm beginning to think that being a good person in most ways doesn't count for anything very much$$$ if you're a bad person in one way.

Human beings are millions of things in one day.