Measure not the work until the day's out and the labor done.

The little cares that fretted me, I lost them yesterday Among the fields above the sea, Among the winds at play.

What we call Life is a condition of the soul. And the soul must improve in happiness and wisdom, except by its own fault. These tears in our eyes, these faintings of the flesh, will not hinder such improvement.

Earth's crammed with Heaven.

Whoso loves, believes in the impossible

It is not merely the likeness which is precious... but the association and the sense of nearness involved in the thing... the fact of the very shadow of the person lying there fixed forever! It is the very sanctification of portraits I think - and it is not at all monstrous in me to say that I would rather have such a memorial of one I dearly loved, than the noblest Artist's work ever produced.

Yes, I answered you last night; No, this morning, sir, I say: Colors seen by candle-light Will not look the same by day.