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World's use is cold, world's love is vain, world's cruelty is bitter bane; but is not the fruit of pain.
Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west.
A great man leaves clean work behind him, and requires no sweeper up of the chips.
Earth's crammed with Heaven.
If you desire faith, then you have faith enough.
Or from Browning some "Pomegranate," which if cut deep down the middle Shows a heart within blood-tinctured, of a veined humanity.
I f thou must love me, let it be for nought Except for love's sake only. Do not say, I love her for her smile ... her look ... her way Of speaking gently ... for a trick of thought That falls in well with mine, and, certes, brought A sense of pleasant ease on such a day- For these things in themselves, Beloved, may Be changed, or change for thee-and love so wrought, May be unwrought so.
For frequent tears have run; The colours from my life.
And lips say “God be pitiful,” Who ne'er said “God be praised.”
What monster have we here? A great Deed at this hour of day? A great just deed - and not for pay? Absurd - or insincere?
Experience, like a pale musician, holds a dulcimer of patience in his hand.
For 'Tis not in mere death that men die most.
A good neighbor sometimes cuts your morning up to mince-meat of the very smallest talk, then helps to sugar her bohea at night with your reputation.
We all have known good critics, who have stamped out poet's hopes; Good statesmen, who pulled ruin on the state; Good patriots, who, for a theory, risked a cause; Good kings, who disemboweled for a tax; Good Popes, who brought all good to jeopardy; Good Christians, who sat still in easy-chairs; And damned the general world for standing up. Now, may the good God pardon all good men!
Gaze up at the stars knowing that I see the same sky and wish the same sweet dreams.
It is not merely the likeness which is precious... but the association and the sense of nearness involved in the thing... the fact of the very shadow of the person lying there fixed forever! It is the very sanctification of portraits I think - and it is not at all monstrous in me to say that I would rather have such a memorial of one I dearly loved, than the noblest Artist's work ever produced.
And that dismal cry rose slowly And sank slowly through the air, Full of spirit's melancholy And eternity's despair; And they heard the words it said,- "Pan is dead! great Pan is dead! Pan, Pan is dead!"
His ears were often the first thing to catch my tears.
Men of science, osteologists And surgeons, beat some poets, in respect For nature,-count nought common or unclean, Spend raptures upon perfect specimens Of indurated veins, distorted joints, Or beautiful new cases of curved spine; While we, we are shocked at nature's falling off, We dare to shrink back from her warts and blains.
Definition of Love: A score of zero in tennis. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears of all my life.
The devil's most devilish when respectable.
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