“Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so. For, those, whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow. Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.”

I shall not live ’till I see God; and when I have seen Him, I shall never die.

Be more than man, or thou’rt less than an ant.

Poetry is a counterfeit creation, and makes things that are not, as though they were.

Then love is sin, and let me sinful be.

If ever any beauty I did see, Which I desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee.

In heaven it is always autumn.

One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

Humiliation is the beginning of sanctification.

More than kisses, letters mingle souls.

How imperfect is all our knowledge!

As states subsist in part by keeping their weaknesses from being known, so is it the quiet of families to have their chancery and their parliament within doors, and to compose and determine all emergent differences there.

Solitude is a torment which is not threatened in hell itself.

Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.

Take me to you, imprison me, for I, except you enthrall me, never shall be free, nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

Love is strong as death; but nothing else is as strong as either; and both, love and death, met in Christ. How strong and powerful upon you, then, should that instruction be, that comes to you from both these, the love and death of Jesus Christ!

When one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language.

You soon realize that the peak you’ve climbed was one of the lowest, that the mountain was part of a chain of mountains, that there are still so many, so many mountains to climb And the more you climb, the more you want to climb – even though you’re dead tired.

Shri Ramakrishna use to say, “As Long as I Live, so long do I learn”. That man or that society which has nothing to learn is already in the jaws of death.

Tea Cake, the son of the Evening Sun, had to die for loving her.

Does it seem that everything is extravagance in the world, or rather madness, when you watch the way things go? A crowd of rogues enjoy blessings they have won by sheer injustice, while more honest folks are miserable and die of hunger.

I don’t believe in life after death. But I do believe in some grinding destiny that watches over us on earth. If I didn’t, the safety valve would give and the boiler would explode.

I want to die with my high heels on, still in action.

Call no man happy before he dies.

The happiness of the drop is to die in the river.