Babies breathe a lot more rapidly than adults do, and what’s more, they’re also growing quickly and so they’re absorbing lots more into the body and they’re more fragile in terms of development and so on.

The fairest things have fleetest end, Their scent survives their close: But the rose’s scent is bitterness To him that loved the rose.

The devil doesn’t know how to sing, only how to howl.

An atheist is a man who believes himself to be an accident

The chambers in the house of dreams Are fed with so divine an air, That Time's hoary wings grow young therein, And they who walk there are most fair.

All things by immortal power, Near and Far Hiddenly To each other linked are, That thou canst not stir a flower Without troubling of a star.

Happiness is the shadow of things past, Wich fools still take for that which is to be!

I do not believe that Nature has a heart; and I suspect that, like many another beauty, she has been credited with a heart because of her face

Summer set lip to earth's bosom bare, And left the flushed print in a poppy there: Like a yawn of fire from the grass it came, And the fanning wind puffed it to flapping flame. With burnt mouth red like a lion's it drank The blood of the sun as he slaughtered sank, And dipped its cup in the purpurate shine When the eastern conduits ran with wine.

Babies breathe a lot more rapidly than adults do, and what's more, they're also growing quickly and so they're absorbing lots more into the body and they're more fragile in terms of development and so on.