His heart danced upon her movement like a cork upon a tide.
God made food; the devil the cooks.
I care not if I live but a day and a night, so long as my deeds live after me.
Absence, the highest form of presence.
Save the trees of Ireland for the future men of Ireland on the fair hills of Eire, O.
Gentle lady, do not sing Sad songs about the end of love; Lay aside sadness and sing How love that passes is enough. Sing about the long deep sleep Of lovers that are dead, and how In the grave all love shall sleep: Love is aweary now.