There is nothing that God hath established in a constant course of nature, and which therefore is done every day, but would seem a Miracle, and exercise our admiration, if it were done but once.

More than kisses, letters mingle souls.

Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

We love and understand talent; we wish it be within us. The truly gifted, those exceptional few, must wait for the world to catch up.

To know and feel all this and not have the words to express it makes a human a grave of his own thoughts.

Death comes equally to us all, and makes us all equal when it comes.

How much shall I be changed, before I am changed!