Have not all past human beings parted, And must not all the present, one day part?

I live not in myself, but I become Portion of that around me: and to me High mountains are a feeling, but the hum of human cities torture.

I have not loved the world, nor the world me, but let us part fair foes; I do believe, though I have found them not, that there may be words which are things, hopes which will not deceive, and virtues which are merciful, or weave snares for the failing: I would also deem o'er others' griefs that some sincerely grieve; that two, or one, are almost what they seem, that goodness is no name, and happiness no dream.

When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall; And when Rome falls--the World.

A thousand years may scare form a state. An hour may lay it in ruins.

Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, And yet a third of life is passed in sleep.

There's naught, no doubt, so much the spirit calms as rum and true religion.