Read my little fable: He that runs may read. Most can raise the flowers now, For all have got the seed.
Alfred Lord TennysonAll things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful past.
Alfred Lord TennysonHow dull it is to pause, to make an end, to rust unburnished, not to shine in use! As though to breathe were life.
Alfred Lord Tennyson