With faces like dead lovers who died true.
Ethics, as has been well said, are the finest fruits of humanity, but they are not its roots
One cannot make oneself, but one can sometimes help a little in the making of somebody else. It is well.
The plan of this world is infinite similarity and yet infinite variety.
The irrevocable Hand That opes the year's fair gate, doth ope and shut The portals of our earthly destinies; We walk through blindfold, and the noiseless doors Close after us, for ever.
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