Take away love and our earth is a tomb.
That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine careless rapture!
What's a man's age? He must hurry more, that's all; Cram in a day, what his youth took a year to hold.
The aim, if reached or not, makes great the life: Try to be Shakespeare, leave the rest to fate!
The moment eternal - just that and no more - When ecstasy's utmost we clutch at the core While cheeks burn, arms open, eyes shut, and lips meet!
Tis not what man Does which exalts him, but what man Would do!
Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.
White shall not neutralize the black, nor good compensate bad in man, absolve him so: life's business being just the terrible choice.
Stung by the splendour of a sudden thought.
What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?
What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew.
Perhaps one has to be very old before one learns to be amused rather than shocked.
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.
You should not take a fellow eight years old and make him swear to never kiss the girls.
On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven a perfect round.