Most progress is most failure.
That great brow And the spirit-small hand propping it.
If thou tastest a crust of bread, thou tastest all the stars and all the heavens.
How good is man's life, the mere living! How fit to employ all the heart and the soul and the senses forever in joy!
Needs there groan a world in anguish just to teach us sympathy?
All's love, yet all's law.