Escape me? Never, beloved! While I am I, and you are you.
Ignorance is not innocence but sin.
Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe, all were for me, in the kiss of one girl.
Poetry, like love, is something we never truly say goodbye to.
Oh, the little more, and how much it is! And the little less, and what worlds away.
Measure your mind’s height by the shade it casts.
God’s justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.
Better have failed in the high aim, as I, Than vulgarly in the low aim succeed As, God be thanked! I do not.
You should not take a fellow eight years old and make him swear to never kiss the girls.
That’s the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine careless rapture!
How good is man’s life, the mere living! How fit to employ all the heart and the soul and the senses forever in joy!
Finds progress, man’s distinctive mark alone, Not God’s, and not the beast’s; God is, they are, Man partly is, and wholly hopes to be.
Fail I alone, in words and deeds? Why, all men strive and who succeeds?
At last awake from life, that insane dream we take for waking now.
Our aspirations are our responsibilities.
What’s a man’s age? He must hurry more, that’s all; Cram in a day, what his youth took a year to hold.
Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, Or what’s a heaven for?
Truth that peeps Over the glass’s edge when dinner’s done.
Let friend trust friends, and love demand love’s like.
No work begun shall ever pause for death.