The greater person is one of courtesy.
There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass.
The jingling of the guinea helps the hurt that Honor feels.
Half the night I waste in sighs, Half in dreams I sorrow after The delight of early skies; In a wakeful dose I sorrow For the hand, the lips, the eyes, For the meeting of the morrow, The delight of happy laughter, The delight of low replies.
If I make dark my countenance, I shut my life from happier chance.
Thoroughly to believe in one's own self, so one's self were thorough, were to do great things.