Theirs is not to make reply: Theirs is not to reason why: Theirs is but to do and die.

Men at most differ as Heaven and Earth, but women, worst and best, as Heaven and Hell.

Launch your vessel, And crowd your canvas, And, ere it vanishes Over the margin, After it, follow it, FollowThe Gleam.

Dead sounds at night come from the inmost hills. Like footsteps upon wool.

She sleeps: her breathings are not heard In palace chambers far apart. The fragrant tresses are not stirr'd That lie upon her charmed heart She sleeps: on either hand upswells The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest: She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells A perfect form in perfect rest.

Better not be at all than not be noble.

Faith is believing what we cannot prove.