Grow old with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made: Our times are in his hands Who sayeth "a whole I plant, Youth shows but half; Trust God; see all nor be afraid."
When pain ends, gain ends too.
Your children are not dead. They are just waiting until the world deserves them.
Man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?
Make us happy and you make us good.
Who hears music, feels his solitude peopled at once.
When the fight begins within himself, a man's worth something.
Less is more.
how sad and bad and mad it was - but then, how it was sweet
Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for?
My sun sets to rise again.
There is an inmost center in us all, where truth abides in fullness;....and, to know, rather consists in opening out a way where the imprisoned splendor may escape, then in effecting entry for a light supposed to be without.
Take away love and our earth is a tomb.
What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew
The rain set early in tonight, The sullen wind was soon awake, It tore the elm-tops down for spite, And did its best to vex the lake: I listened with heart fit to break. When glided in Porphyria; straight She shut the cold out and the storm, And kneeled and made the cheerless grate Blaze up and all the cottage warm;
Love is the energy of life.
White shall not neutralize the black, nor good compensate bad in man, absolve him so: life's business being just the terrible choice.
Like dogs in a wheel, birds in a cage, or squirrels in a chain, ambitious men still climb and climb, with great labor, and incessant anxiety, but never reach the top.
Perhaps one has to be very old before one learns to be amused rather than shocked.
Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.