“Sweet is true love that is given in vain, and sweet is death that takes away pain.”

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.

Her eyes are homes of silent prayers.

Theirs is not to make reply: Theirs is not to reason why: Theirs is but to do and die.

The quiet sense of something lost.

God’s finger touched him, and he slept.

Cleave ever to the sunnier side of doubt.

I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.

The parting of a husband and wife is like the cleaving of a heart; one half will flutter here, one there.

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you. I could walk through my garden forever.

My doom is, I love thee still. Let no man dream but that I love thee still.