One half the world must sweat and groan that the other half may dream.

The day is dark and cold and dreary; it rains, and the wind is never weary.

When one is truly in love, one not only says it, but shows it.

Dreams or illusions, call them what you will, they lift us from the commonplace of life to better things.

Mercy more becomes a magistrate than the vindictive wrath which men call justice.

'Tis always morning somewhere, and aboveThe awakening continents, from shore to shore,Somewhere the birds are singing evermore.

The leaves of memory seemed to make A mournful rustling in the dark