Love is a flame to set the will on fire

I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky; and all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.

Poetry is a mixture of common sense, which not all have, with an uncommon sense, which very few have.

It is too maddening. I've got to fly off, right now, to some devilish navy yard, 3 hours in a seasick steamer, & after being heartily sick, I'll have to speak 3 times, & then be sick coming home. Still, who would not be sick for England?

People who leave their own time out of their work cannot be surprised if their time fails to find them interesting.

And may we find when ended is the page, Death but a tavern on our pilgrimage.

In this life he laughs longest who laughs last.