Give me books, fruit, French wine and fine weather and a little music out of doors, played by someone I do not know. I admire lolling on a lawn by a water-lilied pond to eat white currants and see goldfish: and go to the fair in the evening if I'm good. There is not hope for that -one is sure to get into some mess before evening.

Give me books, fruit, French wine and fine weather and a little music out of doors, played by someone I do not know. I admire lolling on a lawn by a water-lilied pond to eat white currants and see goldfish: and go to the fair in the evening if I'm good. There is not hope for that -one is sure to get into some mess before evening.

--then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

Call the world if you please "the vale of soul-making." Then you will find out the use of the world.

Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them; thou has thy music too.

Failure is, in a sense, the highway to success.

Alas! when passion is both meek and wild!