Behold and see What a great heap of grief lay hid in me, And how the red wild sparkles dimly burn Through the ashen greyness. - <i>Sonnet V</i> - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

The world of books is still the world, I write, And both worlds have God’s providence, thank God, To keep and hearten: with some struggle, indeed, Among the breakers, some hard swimming through The deeps - I lost breath in my soul sometimes And cried, ”God save me if there’s any God,” But even so, God saved me; and, being dashed From error on to error, every turn Still brought me nearer to the central truth.

Pomegranates you may cut deep down the middle and see into, but not hearts, — so why should I try and speak?

الكتاب هو المعلم الذي يعلم بلا عصا و لا كلمات و لا غضب . . بلا خبز و لا ماء . . إن دنوت منه لا تجده نائماً وإن قصدته لا يختبىء منك . . وإن أخطأت لا يوبخك وإذا أظهرت جهلك لا يسخر منك