One stiff blind horse, his every bone a-stare,/ Stood stupefied, however he came there: / Thrust out past service from the devil's stud! |
One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, sleep to wake. |
One wise man's verdict outweighs all the fools' |
Open my heart and you will see / Graved inside of it, `Italy'. |
Or, my scrofulous French novel / On grey paper with blunt type! / Simply glance at it, you grovel / Hand and foot in Belial's gripe. |
Others mistrust and say: "But time escapes - live now or never!" He said: "What's time? Leave Now for dogs and apes - Man has For ever |
Our guards really worked hard this summer on their shooting. You can't rely on your shooting all the time, but sometimes it pays off. |
Our interest's on the dangerous edge of things. The honest thief, the tender murderer, the superstitious atheist. |
Our murder has been done three days ago,/ The frost is over and done, the south wind laughs, / And, to the very tiles of each red roof/ A-smoke i' the sunshine, Rome lies gold and glad. |
Outside are the storms and strangers: We - Oh, close, safe and warm sleep I and she, I - and she |
Perhaps one has to be very old before one learns to be amused rather than shocked. |
Pleasure must succeed to pleasure, else past pleasure turns to pain |
Progress is The law of life, man is not man as yet |
Progress, man's distinctive mark alone, Not God's, and not the beasts': God is, they are, Man partly is and wholly hopes to be |
Rats! They fought the dogs and killed the cats, And bit the babies in the cradles, And ate the cheeses out of the vats, And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles, Split open the kegs of salted sprats, Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, And eve |