And each man stands with his face in the light. Of his own drawn sword, ready to do what a hero can.

I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless.

Experience, like a pale musician, holds a dulcimer of patience in his hand.

If thou must love me, let it be for naught except for love's sake only.

The flower-girl's prayer to buy roses and pinks, held out in the smoke, like stars by day.

It is difficult to get rid of people when you once have given them too much pleasure.

Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west.