The loss of a friend is like that of a limb; time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired.
Robert SoutheyRead
My name is Death: the last best friend am I.
The loss of a friend is like that of a limb; time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired.
It is not for man to rest in absolute contentment. He is born to hopes and aspirations as the sparks fly upward, unless he has brutalized his nature and quenched the spirit of immortality which is his portion.
Oh, when a mother meets on high The babe she lost in infancy, Hath she not then for pains and fears, The day of woe, the watchful night, For all her sorrow, all her tears, An over-payment of delight?
If you would be pungent, be brief; for it is with words as with sunbeams - the more they are condensed, the deeper they burn.
They sin who tell us Love can die: with Life all other passions fly, all others are but vanity.
Order is the sanity of the mind, the health of the body, the peace of the city, the security of the state. Like beams in a house or bones to a body, so is order to all things.
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