There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven't yet met.

It is one of the great troubles of life that we cannot have any unmixed emotions. There is always something in our enemy that we like, and something in our sweetheart that we dislike.

I pray-for fashion's word is out And prayer comes round again- That I may seem, though I die old, A foolish, passionate man.

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, the blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere the ceremony of innocence is drowned.

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

Only that which does not teach, which does not cry out, which does not condescend, which does not explain, is irresistible.

But was there ever dog that praised his fleas?