Our deeds are like children that are born to us; they live and act apart from our own will. Nay, children may be strangled, but deeds never: they have an indestructible life both in and out of our consciousness.
George Eliot (Romola).
Room in all the ages
For our love to grow,
Prayers of both demanded
A little while ago:
And now a few poor moments,
Between life and death,