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Remorse, the fatal egg that pleasure laid.

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Egg Fatal Laid Pleasure Regret Remorse

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

He finds his fellow guilty of a skin Not color’d like his own, and having pow’r T’ enforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey.
WILLIAM COWPER

Color Enforce Fellow Find Guilty Power Skin Slavery Wrong
Variety’s the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavor.
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O Winter, ruler of the inverted year!
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Inverted Ruler Winter Year
There is in souls a sympathy with sounds: And as the mind is pitch’d the ear is pleased With melting airs, or martial, brisk or grave; Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch’d within us, and the heart replies.
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Air Brisk Ear Heart Martial Melt Mind Music Pease Pitch Soul Sound Sympathy
I venerate the man whose heart is warm, Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life, Coincident, exhibit lucid proof That he is honest in the sacred cause.
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Doctrine Hand Heart Life Man Pure Venerate
The only amarantine flower on earth Is virtue.
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Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.
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The man to solitude accustom’d long, Perceives in everything that lives a tongue; Not animals alone, but shrubs and trees Have speech for him, and understood with ease,
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Accustom Fall Flower Man Rain Solitude
Nature is a good name for an effect whose cause is God.
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Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees, Rock’d in the cradle of the western breeze.
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Still ending, and beginning still.
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Remorse, the fatal egg that pleasure laid.
WILLIAM COWPER

Egg Fatal Laid Pleasure Regret Remorse
England with all thy faults, I love thee still– My country! and, while yet a nook is left Where English minds and manners may be found, Shall be constrained to love thee.
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Country Fault Love May Mind Still
Knowledge is proud that it knows so much; wisdom is humble that it knows no more.
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The kindest and the happiest pair Will find occasion to forbear; And something, every day they live, To pity, and perhaps forgive.
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Existence is a strange bargain. Life owes us little; we owe it everything.
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Existence Happiness Life Little Owe

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