Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.
More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.
We are all a part of every person we have ever met.
Love will conquer at the last.
The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind, for those that were here we see no more.
Her eyes are homes of silent prayers.
Better not to be at all Than not to be noble.
There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds.
Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.
I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depths of some devine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.
Words, like nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.
I am a part of all that I have met.
Shall love be blamed for want of faith?
The world which credits what is done is cold to all that might have been.
And men, whose reason long was blind, From cells of madness unconfined, Oft lose whole years of darker mind.
And blessings on the falling out That all the more endears, When we fall out with those we love And kiss again with tears!
My life has crept so long on a broken wing Through cells of madness, haunts of horror and fear, That I come to be grateful at last for a little thing.