Who is wise in love, love most, say least.

It is hard to wive and thrive both in a year.

Whatever crazy sorrow saith, No life that breathes with human breath Has ever truly longed for death.

Though much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

And men, whose reason long was blind, From cells of madness unconfined, Oft lose whole years of darker mind.

There is always change, bad customs pass and give way to better ones.

And common is the commonplace, And vacant chaff well meant for grain.