When I love most, love is disguised. In hate; and when hate is surprised, in love, then I hate most.

Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in his hand who saith, 'A whole I planned, youth shows but half; Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!

The great beacon light God sets in all, the conscience of each bosom.

"With this same key Shakespeare unlocked his heart" once more! Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare he!

The common problem, yours, mine, everyone's Is ? not to fancy what were fair in life Provided it could be ? but, finding first What may be, then find how to make it fair Up to our means.

Take away love and our earth is a tomb.

That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine careless rapture!