His face was filled with broken commandments.

All I ask is a tall ship and a star to sail her by.

The Thames is a wretched river after the Mersey and the ships are not like Liverpool ships and the docks are barren of beauty ... it is a beastly hole after Liverpool; for Liverpool is the town of my heart and I would rather sail a mudflat there than command a clipper out of London

Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir, Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine, With a cargo of ivory, And apes and peacocks, Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.

God warms his hands at man's heart when he prays.

I have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain.

The days that make us happy make us wise