“Death is Life’s high meed.”

Where the nightingale doth sing Not a senseless, tranced thing, But divine melodious truth.

Tis the witching hour of night, Orbed is the moon and bright. And the stars they glisten, glisten, Seeming with bright eyes to listen- For what listen they?

Love is my religion – I could die for it.

I will clamber through the clouds and exist.

You cannot conceive how I ache to be with you: how I would die for one hour.

I think we may class the lawyer in the natural history of monsters.

The excellence of every Art is its intensity.

The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!

As the Swiss inscription says: “Speech is silvern, Silence is golden;” or, as I might rather express it, Speech is of Time, Silence is of Eternity.

I don’t need the stars in the night I found my treasure All I need is you by my side so shine forever.

And when thou art weary I’ll find thee a bed, Of mosses and flowers to pillow thy head.

A hope beyond the shadow of a dream.

I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.

I want a brighter word than bright.

I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days – three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.

Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host’s Canary wine?

Justice is the handmaiden of truth, and when truth dies, justice is buried with it.

The spirituality of wonder knows the world is charged with grace, that while sin and war, disease and death are terribly real, God’s loving presence and power in our midst are even more real.

It’s pointless to cry. One is born and dies alone.

The truth is that we simply do not know what happens after death.

After much soul searching I was able to renounce my past Islamist ideology, challenging everything I was once prepared to die for.

It is not tolerable, it is not possible, that from so much death, so much sacrifice and ruin, so much heroism, a greater and better humanity shall not emerge.

If we stay where we are, where we’re stuck, where we’re comfortable and safe, we die there… When nothing new can get in, that’s death.

Love lives. and dies. as fast as butterflies.