For there is no friend like a sister in calm or stormy weather; To cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands.
She gave up beauty in her tender youth, gave all her hope and joy and pleasant ways; she covered up her eyes lest they should gaze on vanity, and chose the bitter truth.
Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I but when the trees bow down their heads, the wind is passing by.
I might show facts as plain as day: but, since your eyes are blind, you’d say, “Where? What?” and turn away.