Robert Browning

Therefore I summon age / To grant youth's heritage.

Was there nought better than to enjoy? No feat which, done, would make time break, And let us pent-up creatures through Into eternity, our due? No forcing earth teach heaven's employ?

And let them pass, as they will too soon, _x000D_ _x000D_ With the bean-flowers' boon, _x000D_ _x000D_ And the blackbird's tune, _x000D_ _x000D_ And May, and June!

Earth being so good, would heaven seem best?

Over my head his arm he flung, Against the world.

You never know what life means till you die; even throughout life, tis death that makes life live.

Oh the wild joys of living! The leaping from rock to rock ... the cool silver shock of the plunge in a pool's living waters.

Man partly is and wholly hopes to be.

There are three ways of learning golf: by study, which is the most wearisome; by imitation, which is the most fallacious; and by experience, which is the most bitter.

Aspire, break bounds. Endeavor to be good, and better still, best.

O lyric Love, half angel and half bird. And all a wonder and a wild desire.

How strange now, looks the life he makes us lead; So free we seem, so fettered fast we are!

No, when the fight begins within himself, / A man's worth something.

White shall not neutralize the black, nor good compensate bad in man, absolve him so; life's business being just the terrible choice.

I, painting from myself and to myself, _x000D_ Know what I do, am unmoved by men's blame _x000D_ Or their praise either.

God be thanked, the meanest of his creatures_x000D_ _x000D_ Boasts two soul-sides, one to face the world with,_x000D_ _x000D_ One to show a woman when he loves her.

I count life just a stuff_x000D_ _x000D_ To try the soul's strength on.

As is your sort of mind, So is your sort of search: You will find what you desire.

Our interest's on the dangerous edge of things. The honest thief, the tender murderer, the superstitious atheist.

One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, sleep to wake.

Why comes temptation but for man to meet And master and make crouch beneath his foot, And so be pedestaled in triumph?