She is not fair to outward viewAs many maidens be;Her loveliness I never knewUntil she smiled on me.Oh! then I saw her eye was bright,A well of love, a spring of light.

All thoughts all passions all delights Whatever stirs this mortal frame All are but ministers of Love And feed his sacred flame.

A mother is a mother still The holiest thing alive.

No man was ever yet a great poet without at the same time being a profound philosopher.

Alone alone all all alone Alone on a wide wide sea.

Swans sing before they die - 'twere no bad thing Should certain persons die before they sing.

If we take care of the inches we will not have to worry about the miles.