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Solitude, seeming a sanctuary, proves a grave; a sepulchre in which the living lie, where all good qualities grow sick and die

Related Topics

Good Grow Living Lying Quality Sanctuary Sick Solitude

Bagwalas

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

I am out of humanity’s reach.I must finish my journey alone,Never hear the sweet music of speech;I start at the sound of my own.
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Humanity Journey Music Reach Speech Sweet
Unless a love of virtue light the flame,
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Air Flame Light Love Unless
The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower.
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Built God a church and laughed His word to scorn.
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A life of ease is a difficult pursuit.
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Truth is the golden girdle of the globe.
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There is a pleasure in poetic pains / Which only poets know.
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Ye therefore who love mercy, teach your sons to love it, too.
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Love Mercy Son Therefore
Ye fearful saints fresh courage take, The clouds you so much dread Are big with mercy and shall break, With blessings on your head
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Time, as he passes us, has a dove’s wing, Unsoil’d, and swift, and of a silken sound.
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And the tear that is wiped with a little address, May be follow’d perhaps by a smile.
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Pleasure admitted in undue degree, enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.
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The proud are ever most provoked by pride.
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Ever Haughtiness Most Pride Proud Provoked
After long drought when rains abundant fall, He hears the herbs and flowers rejoicing all.
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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
Deep in unfathomable mines Of never failing skill He treasures up his bright designs,
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Bright Deep Design Fall Mine Skill Treasure Unfathomable

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