Better not be at all than not be noble.

Thou madest man, he knows not why, he thinks he was not made to die.

Name and fame! to fly sublime Through the courts, the camps, the schools Is to be the ball of Time, Bandied in the hands of fools.

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.

Not once or twice in our rough island story, The path of duty was the way to glory.

I am half-sick of shadows,' said The Lady of Shalott.

I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul