All of us who are worth anything, spend our manhood in unlearning the follies, or expiating the mistakes of our youth. |
War is the statesman's game, the priest's delight, the lawyer's jest, the hired assassin's trade. |
We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. |
The pleasure that is in sorrow is sweeter than the pleasure of pleasure itself. |
There is no real wealth but the labor of man. |
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind? |
Revenge is the naked idol of the worship of a semi-barbarous age. |
The soul's joy lies in doing. |
History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man. |
I think that the leaf of a tree, the meanest insect on which we trample, are in themselves arguments more conclusive than any which can be adduced that some vast intellect animates Infinity. |
Love is free; to promise for ever to love the same woman is not less absurd than to promise to believe the same creed; such a vow in both cases excludes us from all inquiry. |
When a thing is said to be not worth refuting you may be sure that either it is flagrantly stupid - in which case all comment is superfluous - or it is something formidable, the very crux of the problem. |
A man, to be greatly good, must imagine intensely and comprehensively; he must put himself in the place of another and of many others; the pains and pleasures of his species must become his own. |
Poetry is a sword of lightning, ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard that would contain it. |
The man of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys. |
Music, when soft voices die Vibrates in the memory. |
Man's yesterday may never be like his morrow; Nought may endure but Mutability. |
Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds. |
Twin-sister of Religion, Selfishness. |
Familiar acts are beautiful through love. |