Greatness of any kind has no greater foe than a habit of drinking.
Tears are the softening showers which cause the seed of heaven to spring up in the human heart.
Is death the last sleep? No, it is the last and final awakening.
The summer dawn's reflected hue To purple changed Lock Katrine blue, Mildly and soft the western breeze Just kiss'd the lake, just stirr'd the trees, And the pleased lake, like maiden coy, Trembled but dimpled not for joy.
The will to do, the soul to dare..
On his bold visage middle age Had slightly press'd its signet sage, Yet had not quench'd the open truth And fiery vehemence of youth: Forward and frolic glee was there, The will to do, the soul to dare.