We are in Transylvania, and Transylvania is not England. Our ways are…

Listen to them — the children of the night. What music they make.

Despair has its own calms.

"I was naturally thoughtful, and the leisure of long illness gave opportunity for many thoughts which were fruitful according to their kind in later years."

Do not grieve for her! Who knows, but she may have found the joy she sought? Love and patience are all that make for happiness in this world; or in the world of the past or of the future; of the living or the dead. She dreamed her dream; …

No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be.

One and all we felt that the holy calm that lay like sunshine over the wasted face and form was only an earthly token and symbol of the calm that was to reign for ever.