Every conquering temptation represents a new fund of moral energy. Every trial endured and weathered in the right spirit makes a soul nobler and stronger than it was before.

Fair and foul are near of kin And fair needs foul," I cried. "My friends are gone, but that's a truth Nor grave nor bed denied."

A man in his own secret meditation / Is lost amid the labyrinth that he has made / In art or politics.

The wind blows out of the gates of the day, The wind blows over the lonely of heart, And the lonely of heart is withered away.

On limestone quarried near the spot By his command these words are cut: Cast a cold eye On life, on death. Horseman, pass by!

Now that my ladder's gone, I must lie down where all my ladders start, In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart.

We are closed in, and the key is turned / On our uncertainty.