Slayer of the winter, art thou here again? O welcome, thou that bring'st the summer nigh! The bitter wind makes not the victory vain. Nor will we mock thee for thy faint blue sky.

The reward of labour is life. Is that not enough?

My work is the embodiment of dreams in one form or another.

No man is good enough to be another's master.

And the deeds that ye do upon this earth, it is for fellowship's sake that ye do them.

Forgetfulness of grief I yet may gain;In some wise may come ending to my pain;It may be yet the Gods will have me glad!Yet, Love, I would that thee and pain I had!

No pattern should be without some sort of meaning.