...and our spirits rushed together at the touching of the lips.
I am a part of all that I have met.
Better not be at all than not be noble.
Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand the downward slope to death.
Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For though from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crossed the bar.
Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great.