Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.
My life has crept so long on a broken wing Through cells of madness, haunts of horror and fear, That I come to be grateful at last for a little thing.
With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a daughter's heart.
Love is the only gold.
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil.