A field of glory is a field for all.
Our judgments, like our watches, none go just alike, yet each believes his own
There is a majesty in simplicity.
No, make me mistress to the man I love; If there be yet another name more free More fond than mistress, make me that to thee!
Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare; And beauty draws us with a single hair.
No one should be ashamed to admit they are wrong, which is but saying, in other words, that they are wiser today than they were yesterday.