“Ring out the grief that saps the mind, for those that were here we see no more.”

More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.

Shape your heart to front the hour, but dream not that the hours will last.

Tis held that sorrow makes us wise.

Speak to Him, thou, for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet- Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.

My strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure.

The words ‘far, far away’ had always a strange charm.

I sometimes find it half a sin, to put to words the grief I feel, For words like nature, half reveal, and half conceal the soul within.

Faith is believing what we cannot prove.

Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?

I must lose myself in action, lest I wither in despair.

Rich in saving common-sense, And, as the greatest only are, In his simplicity sublime.

Trust me not at all, or all in all.

Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.

The world which credits what is done is cold to all that might have been.

I can’t sleep without knowing there’s hope. Half the night I waste in sighs. In a wakeful doze I sorrow. For the hands, for the lips… the eyes. For the meeting of tomorrow.

I am a part of all that I have met.

The percept is the landscape before man, in the absence of man.

To find love in Paris you must go down among those classes where the absence of education and of vanity, and the struggle for bare necessities, have allowed more energy to survive.

The absence of him is everywhere I look.

I know that the absence of my father in my life had its cost.

The job is to ask questions-it always was-and to ask them as inexorably as I can. And to face the absence of precise answers with a certain humility.

When will I realize the absence of hate is not love?

Your absence is the loudest presence I have ever known.

All those lavenders seemed purple in love they turned lilac without him.