Two aged men, that had been foes for life, Met by a grave, and wept - and in those tears They washed away the memory of their strife; Then wept again the loss of all those years.
Jean PaulHe thought of the mouldering child, which laid its withered thin arms around his soul, as if it were his own, and to whom Death had given as much as a god gave to Endymion, — sleep, eternal youth, and immortality.
Jean PaulWith so many thousand joys, is it not black ingratitude to call the world a place of sorrow and torment?
Jean Paul