Ours not to reason why Ours but to do and die.

Her eyes are homes of silent prayers.

I hold it true, what’re befall feel it, when I sorrow most ‘is better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.

Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever.

If thou should never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of.

The greater man the greater courtesy.

His honour rooted in dishonor stood, and faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.

The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions.

For I dipped into the future, as far as human eye could see, saw a vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be.

I am a part of all I have seen.