Ten day ago I drowned these news in tears; And now, to add more measure to your woes, I come to tell you things sith then befallen.
Night is a stealthy, evil Raven, Wrapt to the eyes in his black wings.
And the night shall be filled with music And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown, Thus unlamented let me die; Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie.
Every man who observes vigilantly and resolves steadfastly grows unconsciously into genius.
Most of our obstacles would melt away if, instead of cowering before them, we should make up our minds to walk boldly through them.
Is it the shrewd October wind Brings the tears into her eyes? Does it blow so strong that she must fetch Her breath in sudden sighs?
Opera is when a guy gets stabbed in the back and, instead of bleeding, he sings.
Opera is when a guy gets stabbed in the back and, instead of bleeding, he sings.
It is the deed that teaches, not the name we give it. Murder and capital punishment are not opposites that cancel one another, but similars that breed their kind.
If you did wed my sister for her wealth, Then for her wealth's sake use her with more kindness: Or if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth; Muffle your false love with some show of blindness: Let not my sister read it in your eye; Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator; Look sweet, spear fair, become disloyalty; Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger; Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted; Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint; Be secret-false: what need she be acquainted?
I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts. I am no orator, as Brutus is, But (as you know me all) a plain blunt man That love my friend; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him.
A well-ordered life is like climbing a tower; the view halfway up is better than the view from the base, and it steadily becomes finer as the horizon expands.
And alien tears will fill for him Pity's long-broken urn, For his mourners will be outcast men, And outcasts always mourn.
Pain adds rest unto pleasure, and teaches the luxury of health.
The pain and hurt which i feel, go as deep as it is real; to be around and yet unseen, takes the water out of the steam.
Children are natural mimics: they act like their parents in spite of every attempt to teach them good manners. -Anonymous.
For only as we ourselves, as adults, actually move and have our being in the state of love, can we be appropriate models and guides for our children. What we are teaches the child far more than what we say, so we must be what we want our children to become. from Teaching Children to Love, introduction. -Joseph Chilton Pearce.
Let's not unman each other--part at once; All farewells should be sudden, when forever, Else they make an eternity of moments, And clog the last sad sands of life with tears.
We two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years.
One kind kiss before we part, Drop a tear, and bid adieu; Though we sever, my fond heart Till we meet shall pant for you.
Like as a feareful partridge, that is fledd From the sharpe hauke which her attacked neare, And falls to ground to seeke for succor theare, Whereas the hungry spaniells she does spye, With greedy jawes her ready for to teare.
But, children, you should never let Such angry passions rise; Your little hands were never made To tear each other's eyes. - Isaac Watts,
Enjoy the spring of love and youth, To some good angel leave the rest, For time will teach thee soon the truth, "There are no birds in last year's nest."
There are times when God asks nothing of His children except silence, patience and tears.