I've always thought my flowers had souls.
The body grows by food and work, the mind by use, and the soul through joy and pain.
The fine gifts of temperament and imagination which are essential to the production of true poetry are often accompanied by morbid sensibility. The soul capable of ecstasy and transport must pay its price in suffering; he who walks upon the heights must sometimes grovel in the dust.
The spirit in which one earns his daily bread means as much to his soul as the bread itself may mean to his body.
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