Sunshine cannot bleach the snow, Nor time unmake what poets know
Fear is cruel and mean.
The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite.
The shows of the day, the dewy morning, the rainbow, mountains, orchards in blossom, stars, moonlight, shadows in still water, andthe like, if too eagerly hunted, become shows merely, and mock us with their unreality.
What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say.
Greatness is a property for which no man gets credit too soon; it must be possessed long before it is acknowledged.