It's certain there is no fine thing Since Adam's fall but needs much laboring.

When you are old and gray and full of sleep, and nodding by the fire, take down this book and slowly read, and dream of the soft look your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep.

What is literature but the expression of moods by the vehicle of symbol and incident?

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.

What do we know but that we face one another in this place?

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.

If there's no hatred in a mind Assault and battery of the wind Can never tear the linnet from the leaf