Our friends - how distant, how mute, how seldom visited and little known. And
I, too, am dim to my friends and unknown; a phantom, sometimes seen, often
not. Life is a dream surely.

“For if it is rash to walk into a lion’s den unarmed, rash to navigate the Atlan…”

“For they might be parted for hundreds of years, she and Peter; she never wrote …”

“Come indoors then, and open the books on your library shelves. For you have a l…”

“when suddenly, as if a shelf were shot forth and she stood on it, she said how …”