Less than the dust beneath thy chariot wheel, less than the weed that grows beside thy door. — Adela Florence Nicolson Copy Share Image
I shall go the way of the open sea, To the lands I knew before you came, And the cool ocean breezes shall blow… — Adela Florence Nicolson Copy Share Image
Men should be judged not by their tint of skin, the gods they serve, the vintage they drink, nor by the way they fight,… — Adela Florence Nicolson Copy Share Image
For this is wisdom: to live, to take what fate, or the Gods, may give. — Adela Florence Nicolson Copy Share Image
Pale hands I loved beside the Shalimar, where are you now? Who lies beneath your spell? — Adela Florence Nicolson Copy Share Image
Less than the dust beneath thy chariot wheel, less than the weed that grows beside thy door. — Adela Florence Nicolson Copy Share Image
