Life is a long preparation for something that never happens.

What shall I do for pretty girls Now my old bawd is dead?

All the wild-witches, those most notable ladies For all their broom-sticks and their tears, Their angry tears, are gone.

We cannot doubt that barbaric people receive such influences more visibly and obviously, and in all likelihood more easily and fully than we do, for our life in cities, which deafens or kills the passive meditative life, and our education that enlarges the separated, self-moving mind, have made our souls less sensitive.

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.

All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart, The heavy steps of the plowman, splashing the wintry mold, Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.

I have believed the best of every man. And find that to believe is enough to make a bad man show him at his best, or even a good man swings his lantern higher.