Take away love and our earth is a tomb.
Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.
Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for?
To do good things in the world, first you must know who you are and what gives meaning to your life.
Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in his hand who saith, 'A whole I planned, youth shows but half; Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!
I count life just a stuff To try the soul's strength on.
The aim, if reached or not, makes great the life: Try to be Shakespeare, leave the rest to fate!
The world and life's too big to pass for a dream
Life is an empty dream.
I hear you reproach, "But delay was best, For their end was a crime." Oh, a crime will do As well, I reply, to serve for a test As a virtue golden through and through, Sufficient to vindicate itself And prove its worth at a moment's view! . . . . . . Let a man contend to the uttermost For his life's set prize, be it what it will! The counter our lovers staked was lost As surely as if it were lawful coin; And the sin I impute to each frustrate ghost Is-the unlit lamp and the ungirt loin, Though the end in sight was a vice, I say.
Say not "a small event!" Why "small"? Costs it more pain that this ye call A "great event" should come to pass From that? Untwine me from the mass Of deeds which make up life, one deed Power shall fall short in or exceed!
Believeth with the life, the pain shall stop.
Have you found your life distasteful? My life did, and does, smack sweet. Was your youth of pleasure wasteful? Mine I saved and hold complete. Do your joys with age diminish? When mine fail me, I'll complain. Must in death your daylight finish? My sun sets to rise again.
No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers, The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold.
I think, am sure, a brother's love exceeds All the world's loves in its unworldliness.
Never the time and the place And the loved one all together.
God be thanked, the meanest of his creatures Boasts two soul-sides, one to face the world with, One to show a woman when he loves her.
White shall not neutralize the black, nor good compensate bad in man, absolve him so; life's business being just the terrible choice.
The ultimate, angels' law, Indulging every instinct of the soul There where law, life, joy, impulse are one thing!
That we devote ourselves to God, is seen In living just as though no God there were.
Death was past, life not come: so he waited.
How he lies in his rights of a man! Death has done all death can. And absorbed in the new life he leads, He recks not, he heeds Nor his wrong nor my vengeance; both strike On his senses alike, And are lost in the solemn and strange Surprise of the change.
If two lives join, there is oft a scar. They are one and one, with a shadowy third; One near one is too far.
All we have gained then by our unbelief Is a life of doubt diversified by faith, For one of faith diversified by doubt: We called the chess-board white-we call it black.
Other heights in other lives, God willing.
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