A new degree of intellectual power seems cheap at any price.
Live in the sunshine.
The South-wind brings Life, sunshine and desire, And on every mount and meadow Breathes aromatic fire; But over the dead he has no power, The lost, the lost, he cannot restore; And, looking over the hills, I mourn The darling who shall not return.
We pass for what we are.
All men in the abstract are just and good.
We know truth when we see it, from opinion, as we know when we are awake that we are awake.