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

There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass.

I can’t be anonymous by reason of your confounded photographs. (To Julia Margaret Cameron)

A beam in darkness: let it grow.

So many worlds, so much to do, so little done, such things to be.

Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die.

A still small voice spake unto me, ‘Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?

Ours is not to wonder why. Ours is just to do or die.

The voice of the dead was a living voice to me.

Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and I linger on the shore, And the individual withers, and the world is more and more.

And our spirits rushed together at the touching of the lips.

Things seen are mightier than things heard.

O love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul through My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.

Love will conquer at the last.

The vow that binds too strictly snaps itself.

Oh that it were possible, After long grief and pain, To find the arms of my true love, Around me once again.

Happy days roll onward leading up to golden years.

Once more I am the silent one who came out of the distance wrapped in cold rain and bells: I owe to earth’s pure death the will to sprout.

Superpower’ is something which we used during the cold war time.

Don’t put me in the condition where I have to show how cold my heart can get.

Often a cold shudder has run through me, and I have asked myself whether I may have not devoted myself to a fantasy.

Britain is a very cold, uninhabitable country with small houses.

I’m a prisoner to my addiction I’m addicted to a life that’s so empty and so cold I’m a prisoner to my decisions.

Bitcoin generation should end up where it’s cheapest. Maybe that will be in cold climates where there’s electric heat, where it would be essentially free.

California’s beaches are actually super cold don’t be deceived.