Frank Crane

“ The human heart is the throne of God, the council-chamber of the devil, the dwelling of angels, the vile heath of witches' Sabbaths, the nursery of sweet children, the blood-spattered scene of nameless tragedies. ”

“ The human heart is a garden, wherein grow weeds of memory and blooms of hope, and the snow falls at last and covers all.
The human heart is a meadow full of fireflies, a summer western sky of shimmering distant lightnings, a shore set round with flashing lighthouses, far-away voices calling that we cannot understand. ”

“ The human heart is a tangled wood wherein no man knows his way.
The human heart is a roaring forge where night and day the smiths are busy fashioning swords and silver cups, mitres and engine-wheels, the tools of labor, and the gauds of precedence. ”

“ The human heart is a band playing in a park at a distance; we see crowds listening, but we catch but fragments of the music now and again, and cannot make out the tune.
The human heart is a great city, teeming with myriad people, full of business and mighty doings, and we wander its crowded streets unutterably alone ”