“When the journey’s over/There’ll be time enough to sleep.”

There, like the wind through woods in riot, Through him the gale of life blew high; The tree of man was never quiet: Then ’twas the Roman, now ’tis I.

The house of delusions is cheap to build but drafty to live in.

Tomorrow, more’s the pity, Away we both must hie, To air the ditty and to earth I.

This is for all ill-treated fellows Unborn and unbegot, For them to read when they’re in trouble And I am not.

Luck’s a chance, but trouble’s sure.

I find Cambridge an asylum, in every sense of the word.

The thoughts of others Were light and fleeting, Of lovers’ meeting Or luck or fame. Mine were of trouble, And mine were steady; So I was ready When trouble came.

But men at whiles are sober And think by fits and starts. And if they think, they fasten Their hands upon their hearts.

Lovers lying two and two Ask not whom they sleep beside, And the bridegroom all night through Never turns him to the bride.

Tell me not here, it needs not saying, What tune the enchantress plays In aftermaths of soft September Or under blanching mays, For she and I were long acquainted And I knew all her ways.

Here dead lie we because we did not choose to live and shame the land from which we sprung. Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose; but young men think it is, and we were young.

The mortal sickness of a mind too unhappy to be kind.

A moment’s thought would have shown him. But a moment is a long time, and thought is a painful process.

Three minutes thought would suffice to find this out; but thought is irksome and three minutes is a long time.

Give crowns and pounds and guineas But not your heart away; Give pearls away and rubies, But keep your fancy free.

Oh I have been to Ludlow fair, and left my necktie God knows where. And carried half way home, or near, pints and quarts of Ludlow beer.

You have to go the rounds from individual to individual in order to gather the totality of the race.

In the adjustment of the new order of things, we women demand an equal voice; we shall accept nothing less.

Order and simplification are the first steps toward the mastery of a subject.

Pronunciation has made many an innocent word sound like a doctor’s orders for a stomach pump.

There is a naive belief that injustice only had to be pointed out in order to be cured.

Accident is simply unforeseen order.

In a work of art, chaos must shimmer through the veil of order.

It’s a well-known fact: in order to follow doctor’s orders, you have to be healthy as a horse.