…So when the last and dreadful hour This crumbling pageant shall devour, The trumpet shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And Music shall untune the sky

All flowers will droop in the absence of the sun that waked their sweets.

To die is landing on some distant shore.

Here lies my wife: here let her lie! Now she's at rest, and so am I.

Self-defense is Nature's eldest law.

All empire is no more than power in trust.

All habits gather by unseen degrees.