And yet, and yet, in these our ghostly lives, Half night, half day, half sleeping, half awake, How if our waking life, like that of sleep, Be all a dream in that eternal life To which we wake not till we sleep in death

Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises.

For man's greatest crime is to have been born.

Great events have sent before them their announcements.

What law, what reason can deny that gift so sweet, so natural that God has given a stream, a fish, a beast, a bird?

All must yield to the weight of years; conquest is not difficult for time.

Our treasures trifles seem, and all our life is dreaming, and the dreams themselves are dreams.