The ocean moans over dead men's bones.

All the best sands of my life are somehow getting into the wrong end of the hourglass. If I could only reverse it! Were it in my power to do sowould I?

They fail, and they alone, who have not striven.

The possession of gold has ruined fewer men than the lack of it.

What is lovely never dies, but passes into other loveliness, Star-dust, or sea-foam, flower or winged air.

It is the Lord's Day, and I do believe that cheerful hearts and faces are not unpleasant in His sight.

Sorrow itself is not so hard to bear As the thought of sorrow coming. Airy ghosts, That work no harm, do terrify us more Than men in steel with bloody purposes. Death is not dreadful; 'tis the dread of death— We die whene'er we think of it!