[W]oods are filled with the music of birds, and all nature is laughing under the glorious influence of Summer. – Charles Lanman, “The Dying Year,” 1840
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Heat, ma’am! it was so dreadful here, that I found there was nothing left for it but to take off my flesh and sit in my bones. – Sydney Smith, Lady Holland’s Memoir
I seldom think about my limitations, and they never make me sad. Perhaps there is just a touch of yearning at times but it is vague, like a breeze among flowers. – Helen Keller