The drying up a single tear has more, of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet.
The law of heaven and earth is life for life.
A mistress never is nor can be a friend. While you agree, you are lovers; and when it is over, anything but friends.
Absence - that common cure of love.
They truly mourn, that mourn without a witness.
Liberty - eternal spirit of the chainless mind
To be perfectly original one should think much and read little, and this is impossible, for one must have read before one has learnt to think.
It is true from early habit, one must make love mechanically as one swims; I was once very fond of both, but now as I never swim unless I tumble into the water, I don't make love till almost obliged.
And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music... Speak to me!
We are all the fools of time and terror: Days Steal on us and steal from us; yet we live, Loathing our life, and dreading still to die.
What is fame? The advantage of being known by people of whom you yourself know nothing, and for whom you care as little.
Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, And yet a third of life is passed in sleep.
When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted, To sever for years.
But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of.
Who then will explain the explanation?
A pretty woman is a welcome guest.
I am always most religious upon a sunshiny day.
All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.
Let no man grumble when his friends fall off, As they will do like leaves at the first breeze; When your affairs come round, one way or t'other, Go to the coffee house, and take another.
From the mingled strength of shade and light A new creation rises to my sight, Such heav'nly figures from his pencil flow, So warm with light his blended colors glow. . . . . The glowing portraits, fresh from life, that bring Home to our hearts the truth from which they spring.
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs; A palace and a prison on each hand; I saw from out the wave of her structure's rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand: A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble pines, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles.
Dim with the mist of years, gray flits the shade of power.
If from society we learn to live, solitude should teach us how to die.
Smiles form the channels of a future tear.
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