We both believe, and disbelieve a hundred times an hour, which keeps believing nimble.
The things of which we want the proof are those we know the best.
Had we less to say to those we love, perhaps we should say it oftener.
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant-- Success in Circuit lies Too bright for our infirm Delight The Truth's superb surprise As Lightning to the Children eased With explanation kind The Truth must dazzle gradually Or every man be blind--
The only secret people keep is immortality.
Enough is so vast a sweetness I suppose it never occurs.