Marianne Eppelheimer

“The fields are fair in autumn yet, and the sun's still shining there, but we bow our heads and we brood and fret, because of the masks we wear, Or we nod and smile the social while, and we say we're doing well, But we break our herts! For the things we must not tell.”
― Henry Lawson

“Oh, my ways are strange ways and new ways and old ways, And deep ways and steep ways and high ways and low, I'm at home and at ease on a track that I know not, And restless and lost on a road that I know.”
― Henry Lawson

“We fight it down, and we live it down, or we bear it bravely well,
But the best men die of a broken heart for the things they cannot tell.”
― Henry Lawson, When I Was King and Other Verses