I dwell with a strangely aching heart In that vanished abode there far apart
Far in the pillared dark Thrush music went- Almost like a call to come in To the dark and lament. But no, I was out for stars: I would not come in. I meant not even if asked, And I hadn't been.
Man that is of woman born is apt to be as vain has his mother.
The snake stood up for evil in the Garden.
Hell is a half-filled auditorium.
More men die of worry than of work, because more men worry than work.