How can I, that girl standing there, My attention fix On Roman or on Russian Or on Spanish politics? Yet here's a travelled man that knows What he talks about, And there's a politician That has read and thought, And maybe what they say is true Of war and war's alarms, But O that I were young again And held her in my arms!

And the merry love the fiddle, and the merry love to dance.

We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.

Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.

Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet; She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet. She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree; But I, being young and foolish, with her did not agree. In a field by the river my love and I did stand, And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand. She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs; But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.

The tragedy of sexual intercourse is the perpetual virginity of the soul.

BELOVED, gaze in thine own heart, The holy tree is growing there.