That which we are, we are, and if we are ever to be any better, now is the time to begin.

Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, oh sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me.

Come, my friends Tis not too late to seek a newer world Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die

How many a father have I seen, A sober man, among his boys, Whose youth was full of foolish noise.

Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?

I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul

He makes no friend who never made a foe.