“What a thing friendship is – World without end.”

I count life just a stuff To try the soul’s strength on.

But what if I fail of my purpose here? It is but to keep the nerves at strain, to dry one’s eyes and laugh at a fall, and baffled, get up and begin again.

Art remains the one way possible of speaking truth.

Night conceals a world but reveals a universe.

Pleasure must succeed to pleasure, else past pleasure turns to pain.

Most progress is most failure.

Such ever was love’s way: to rise, it stoops.

Good to forgive, Best to forget.

Who knows most, doubts most.

Truth is within ourselves.

Ignorance is not innocence but sin.

Who hears music feels his solitude peopled at once.

But how carve way i’ the life that lies before, If bent on groaning ever for the past?

Best be yourself, imperial, plain, and true.

My sun sets to rise again.

Truth never hurts the teller.

I’m not sure if he’ll end up as the permanent guitar player, but he’s the type of guy who can kind of step in and play anything.

We ought to consider the end in everything.

I go home at the end of the day and I rarely talk about what I did that day.

The years go by one after the other; time slips past us with out our being aware of it; we grow old like ordinary men and we shall end like them.

It’s not just the end of a chicken leg, it really is – imagine the cartilage of game meat.

Arguments are often like melodramas – they have a predictable beginning, middle, and end.

To one end let us aim our thoughts, and to one end let us aim our souls. Hail, dawn of liberty, behind thee is the redeeming sun.

Terrific. Now to win a larceny trial all we have to do is prove how the universe ends.