Breathe slumbrous music round me, sweet and slow,To honied phrases set!Into the land of dreams I long to go.Bid me forget!
Christmas Eve I saw a stable, low and very bare, A little child in a manger. The oxen knew Him, had Him in their care, To men He was a stranger, The safety of the world was lying there, And the world's danger.
Qualities absolutely necessary for a historian: (1) Imagination. (2) Prejudice. (3) The power of writing your own biography at the same time.
How often one talks not to hear what the other person has got to say, but to hear what one has got to say oneself!
The fruits of the tree of Knowledge are various; he must be strong indeed who can digest all of them.
We were young, we were merry, we were very, very wise, And the door stood open at our feast, When there passed us a woman with the West in her eyes, And a man with his back to the East.
Where is delight? and what are pleasures now?-Moths that a garment fret.The world is turned memorial, crying, "ThouShalt not forget!
Is this wide world not large enough to fill thee,Nor Nature, nor that deep man's Nature, Art?Are they too thin, too weak and poor to still thee,Thou little heart?
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