Deathless laurel is the victor's due.

Raw in the fields the rude militia swarms, Mouth without hands; maintained at vast expense, In peace a charge, in war a weak defence.

Anger will never disappear so long as thoughts of resentment are cherished in the mind. Anger will disappear just as soon as thoughts of resentment are forgotten.

What judgment I had increases rather than diminishes; and thoughts, such as they are, come crowding in so fast upon me, that my only difficulty is to choose or reject; to run them into verse or to give them the other harmony of prose.

Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; and every little absence is an age.

To die is landing on some distant shore.

The perverseness of my fate is such that he's not mine because he's mine too much.