In time there is no present, In eternity no future, In eternity no past.
Love lieth deep; Love dwells not in lip-depths; Love laps his wings on either side the heart Absorbing all the incense of sweet thoughts, So that they pass not to the shrine of sound.
Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace;Sleep, holy spirit, blessed soul,While the stars burn, the moons increase,And the great ages onward roll. Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet. Nothing comes to thee new or strange. Sleep full of rest from head to feet;Lie still, dry dust, secure of change.
...and our spirits rushed together at the touching of the lips.
I am a part of all that I have met.
There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming, my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life, my fate; The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;" And the white rose weeps, "She is late;" The larkspur listens, "I hear; I hear;" And the lily whispers, "I wait."
The world which credits what is done is cold to all that might have been.
So many worlds, so much to do, so little done, such things to be.
He makes no friend who never made a foe.
Men at most differ as Heaven and Earth, but women, worst and best, as Heaven and Hell.
Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.
For love reflects the thing beloved.
My strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure.
My life has crept so long on a broken wing Through cells of madness, haunts of horror and fear, That I come to be grateful at last for a little thing.
Cleave ever to the sunnier side of doubt.
The greater man the greater courtesy.
Launch your vessel, And crowd your canvas, And, ere it vanishes Over the margin, After it, follow it, FollowThe Gleam.
Happy days roll onward leading up to golden years.
A beam in darkness: let it grow.
Better not to be at all Than not to be noble.
Science moves, but slowly, slowly, creeping on from point to point. ... Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns. ... Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.
Battering the gates of heaven with the storms of prayer.
No rock so hard but that a little wave may beat admission in a thousand years.
A lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies.
Sweet is true love that is given in vain, and sweet is death that takes away pain.
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