Keep true, never be ashamed of doing right.

Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.

For we all of us, grave or light, get our thoughts entangled in metaphors, and act fatally on the strength of them.

It's never too late to be who you were meant to be.

Strange, that some of us, with quick alternate vision, see beyond our infatuations, and even while we rave on the heights, behold the wide plain where our persistent self pauses and awaits us.

Our dead are never dead to us until we have forgotten them: they can be injured by us, they can be wounded; they know all our penitence, all our aching sense that their place is empty, all the kisses we bestow on the smallest relic of their presence.

A man deep-wounded may feel too much pain To feel much anger.