“What shall I compare it to, this fantastic thing I call my Mind? To a waste-paper basket, to a sieve choked with sediment, or to a barrel full of floating froth and refuse? No, what it is really most like is a spider's web, insecurely hung on leaves and twigs, quivering in every wind, and sprinkled with dewdrops and dead flies. And at its centre, pondering forever the Problem of Existence, sits motionless the spider-like and uncanny Soul.” MindSoulProblemExistenceForeverWindWastePaperRefuseFantasticCompareHungCentreFloatingSpidersPonderingBasketsBarrelsUncannyTwigs Book:An Anthology Source: An Anthology
“It is a common fate -- a woman's lot -- To waste on one the riches of her soul, Who takes the wealth she gives him, but cannot Repay the interest, and much less the whole.” GivingSoulWholeWomenInterestWealthCommonFateWasteRiches Book:Complete Poetical Works of Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Delphi Classics) Source: Complete Poetical Works of Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Delphi Classics)
“No divine terror will ever be found in the work of the man who wastes a colossal strength in elaborating toys; for the first lesson that terror is sent to teach us is, the value of the human soul, and the shortness of mortal time.” MenFirstsHumansSoulValuesFoundTeachDivineHe ManLessonsWasteTerrorMortalsToysHuman SoulColossalShortness Book:The Stones of Venice: The fall Source: The Stones of Venice: The fall