Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best have gone to their eternal rest.

The rudiment of verse may, possibly, be found in the spondee.

There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.

We gave the Future to the winds, and slumbered tranquilly in the Present, weaving the dull world around us into dreams.

Never to suffer would have been never to have been blessed.

I have made no money. I am as poor now as ever I was in my life - except in hope, which is by no means bankable.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.