" Those slight words and looks and touches are part of the soul's language; and the finest language, I believe, is chiefly made up of unimposing words, such as " light," " sound," " stars," " music" —words really not worth looking at, or hearing, in themselves, any more than " chips" or " sawdust." It is only that they happen to be the signs of something unspeakably great and beautiful. I am of opinion that love is a great and beautiful thing too, and if you agree with me, the smallest signs of it will not be chips and sawdust to you: they will rather be like those little words, " light" and " music," stirring the long-winding fibres of your memory and enriching your present with your most precious past. "