Traveling is a fool's paradise... I pack my trunk, embrace my friends, embark on the sea and at last wake up in Naples, and there besides me is the stern fact, the sad self, unrelenting, identical, that I fled from.
Traveling is a fool's paradise... I pack my trunk, embrace my friends, embark on the sea and at last wake up in Naples, and there besides me is the stern fact, the sad self, unrelenting, identical, that I fled from.
We do not live an equal life, but one of contrasts and patchwork now a little joy, then a sorrow, now a sin, then a generous or brave action.
For each thorn, there's a rosebud... for each twilight a dawn... for each trial the strength to carry on, For each stormcloud a rainbow... for each shadow the sun... for each parting sweet memories when sorrow is done.
Sorrow makes us children again.
The hand that rounded Peter's dome, And groined the aisles of Christian Rome, Wrought in a sad sincerity Himself from God he could not free He builded better than he knew The conscious stone to beauty grew.
Sorrow makes us all children againdestroys all differences of intellect. The wisest know nothing.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories