He mourned Romance, now on the town, And Art, a vagrant.
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Out of a grave I come to tell you this, Out of a grave I come to quench the kiss...
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Last night I watched my brothers play, The gentle and the reckless one,...
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There is a destiny That makes us brothers None goes his way alone All that we send into the lives of others Comes back into our own.
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And we who delve in beauty's lore Know all that we have known before...
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And at his heart there may have gnawed Sick memories of a dead faith foiled and flawed
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He set the jug down slowly at his feet With trembling care, knowing that most things break;
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the cold eternal shores That look sheer down To the dark tideless floods of Nothingness Where all who know may drown.
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The forehead and the little ears Have gone where Saturn keeps the years;...
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If after all that we have lived and thought, All comes to Nought,—...
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he went down As when a lordly cedar, green with boughs,...
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Your Dollar is your only Word, The wrath of it your only fear....
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He drew a circle that shut me out --
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But Love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle that took him in.
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Irony is an insult conveyed in the form of a compliment.
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He drew a circle that shut me out -- Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout. But Love and I had the wit to win: We drew a circle that took him in.
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The grip that swung the ax in Illinois Was on the pen that set a people free.
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Not in achievement, but in endurance, of the human soul, does it show its divine grandeur and its alliance with the infinite.
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The world could not long ignore a holy church. The church is not despised because it is holy: it is despised because it is not holy enough. There is not enough difference between the people inside the church and those outside to be impressive. A church in which saints were as common as now they are rare would convict the world, if only by contrast. Sanctity cannot be ignored. Even a little bit is potent. So far from the gates of hell prevailing against it, it hammers on their triple steel.
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The few little years we spend on earth are only the first scene in a Divine Drama that extends into Eternity.
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The thing that is incredible is life itself. Why should we be here in this sun-illuminated universe? Why should there be green earth under our feet?
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An epigram often flashes light into regions where reason shines but dimly.
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There is that in the soul of man which must respond to the highest in virtue. It may not respond at once. Human nature can easily be over-faced by examples too remote and austere. Moreover, human nature can easily deny God because the whole race has long been in rebellion against Him. Yet there is that in human nature which calls out to the supreme examples of virtue: owns, as it were, the intention of God who made it, and feels the unmistakable homesickness of the soul.
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Objects close to the eye shut out much larger objects on the horizon; and splendors born only of the earth eclipse the stars. So it is with people who sometimes cover up the entire disc of eternity with a dollar, and so quench transcendent glories with a little shining dust.
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Pity makes the world soft to the weak and noble to the strong.
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Within yourself deliverance must be searched for, because each man makes his own prison.
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The probability of life originating from accident is comparable to the probability of the unabridged dictionary resulting from an explosion in a printing shop.
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Politeness is the slow poison of collaboration.
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Cheerfulness in most cheerful people is the rich and satisfying result of strenuous discipline.
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I did not do anything wrong as a governor, even if you accept the verdict as it is, it doesn't indicate that.
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Where ever you find humor, you find pathos close by it side.
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