Death is the king of this world: Tis his park where he breeds life to feed him. Cries of pain are music for his banquet. – George Eliot
When death comes it is never our tenderness that we repent from, but our severity. – George Eliot
Death is the king of this world: Tis his park where he breeds life to feed him. Cries of pain are music for his banquet. – George Eliot
When death comes it is never our tenderness that we repent from, but our severity. – George Eliot
Wear a smile and have friends; wear a scowl and have wrinkles. – George Eliot
We hand folks over to Gods mercy, and show none ourselves. – George Eliot