We are all a part of every person we have ever met.

I am a part of all that I have met.

I grow in worth, and wit, and sense, Unboding critic-pen, Or that eternal want of pence, Which vexes public men.

That which we are, we are, and if we are ever to be any better, now is the time to begin.

Courtesy wins woman all as well. As valor may, but he that closes both is perfect.

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

There rolls the deep where grew the tree. O earth, what changes hast thou seen! There where the long street roars, hath been The stillness of the central sea. The hills are shadows, and they flow From form to form, and nothing stands; They melt like mist, the solid lands, Like clouds they shape themselves and go.