“Tea was sucha comfort.”

“She had a horror he would die at night.And sometimes when the light began to fadeShe could not keep from noticing how whiteThe birches looked — and then she would be afraid,Even with a lamp, to go about the houseAnd lock the windows; and as night wore onToward morning, if a dog howled, or a mouseSqueaked in the floor, long after it was goneHer flesh would sit awry on her. By dayShe would forget somewhat, and it would seemA silly thing to go with just this dreamAnd get a neighbor to come at night and stay.But it would strike her sometimes, making tea:_She had kept that kettle boiling all night long, for company._”

“You are loved. If so, what else matters?”

“But you, you foolish girl, you have gone home to a leaky castle across the sea to lie awake in linen smelling of lavender, and hear the nightingale, and long for me.”

“Childhood Is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies.”

“After all, my erstwhile dear,My no longer cherished,Need we say it was not love,Just because it perished?”

“My candle burns at both ends;It will not last the night;But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—It gives a lovely light!”