If I could have two things in one: the peace of the grave, and the light of the sun.

I am all the time talking about you, and bragging, to one person or another. I am like the Ancient Mariner, who had a tale in his heart he must unfold to all. I am always buttonholing somebody and saying, "Someday you must meet my mother."

I would blossom if I were a rose.

Time can make soft that iron wood.

Man has never been the same since God died.

The world stands out on either side, No wider than the heart is wide.

That which has quelled me, lives with me, Accomplice in catastrophe.