There is no balking genius. Only death can silence it or hinder.
And he who has dwelt with his heart alone, Hears all the music in friendship's tone. So better and better I comprehend How sorrow ever would be our friend.
It has always been my belief that children inherit the suppressed tendencies of their parents. A clergyman's son frequently shows abnormal tastes for the pleasures that his father denied himself.
I hold it true that thoughts are things Endowed with bodies, breath, and wings, And that we send them forth to fill The world with good results--or ill.
One bitter time of mourning, I remember, When day, and night, my sad heart did complain, My life, I said, was one cold, bleak December, And all its pleasures, were but whited pain.
Feast, and your halls are crowded Fast, and the world goes by Succeed and give, and it helps you live But no man can help you die
Life is a Shylock; always it demands The fullest userer's interest for each pleasure. Gifts are not freely scattered by its hands; We make returns for every borrowed treasure.
You are your own devil, you are your own God, You fashioned the paths that your footsteps have trod, And no one can save you from error or sin, Until you shall hark to the Spirit within.
Oh! I know this truth, if I know no other, That passionate Love is Pain's own mother.
Life is a garden forever in flower.
Always continue to climb.
There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and lordly train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain.
Always continue the climb. It is possible for you to do whatever you choose.
No joy for which thy hungering heart has panted, No hope it cherishes through waiting years, But if thou dost deserve it, shall be granted For with each passionate wish the blessing nears. Tune up the fine, strong instrument of thy being To chord with thy dear hope, and do not tire. When both in key and rhythm are agreeing, Lo! thou shalt kiss the lips of thy desire. The thing thou cravest so waits in the distance, Wrapt in the silences, unseen and dumb: Essential to thy soul and thy existence-- Live worthy of it--call, and it shall come.
This dream of our youth will fade out as the splendor Fades from the skies when the sun sinks to sleep.
I'm no reformer; for I see more lightThan darkness in the world; mine eyes are quickTo catch the first dim radiance of the dawn,And slow to note the cloud that threatens storm.
Trust in your own untried capacity.
And however dark the skies may appear, And however souls may blunder, I tell you it all will work out clear, For good lies over and under.
This world is a vaporous jest at best, Tossed off by the gods in laughter, And a cruel attempt at wit were it, If nothing better came after.
Gifts count for nothing; will alone is great; All things give way before it, soon or late.
Whatever your work and whatever its worth, No matter how strong or clever, Some one will sneer if you pause to hear, And scoff at your best endeavor. For the target art has a broad expanse, And wherever you chance to hit it, Though close be your aim to the bull's-eye fame, There are those who will never admit it.
Come, cuddle your head on my shoulder, dear, your head like the golden rod, and we will go sailing away from here to the beautiful Land Of Nod.
Look in; and learn the wrong, and right, From your own soul's unwritten laws. And when you question, or demur, Let Love be your Interpreter.
Distrust that man who tells you to distrust.
The days grow shorter, the nights grow longer, The headstones thicken along the way; And life grows sadder, but love grows stronger For those who walk with us day by day.
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