Joy is of the will which labours, which overcomes obstacles, which knows triumph.

Time can but make it easier to be wise / Though now it seems impossible, and so / All that you need is patience.

It is so many years before one can believe enough in what one feels even to know what the feeling is

What made us dream that he could comb gray hair?

My temptation is quiet. Here at life's end Neither loose imagination Nor the mill of the mind Consuming its rag and bone, Can make the truth known.

Before me floats an image, man or shade, / Shade more than man, more image than a shade.

Any fool can fight a winning battle, but it needs character to fight a losing one, and that should inspire us; which reminds me that I dreamed the other night that I was being hanged, but was the life and soul of the party.