Dawn: When men of reason go to bed.
(July 24, 1842 - January 11, 1914)
Morning is the best of all times in the garden. The sun is not yet hot. Sweet vapors rise from the earth. Night dew clings to the soil and makes plants glisten. Birds call to one another. Bees are already at work.
When I had money, everyone called me brother
It was all happening at the same time.
I'm the one that has to die when it's time for me to die, so let me live my life, the way I want to