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It is sad To see the light of beauty wane away, Know eyes are dimming, bosoms shrivelling, feet Losing their springs, and limbs their lily roundness; But it is worse to feel the heart-spring gone, To lose hope, care not for the coming thing, And feel all things go to decay within us.
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It is much less what we do than what we think, which fits us for the future.
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Many know how to please, but know not when they have ceased to give pleasure.
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Kindness is wisdom. There is none in lifeBut needs it, and may learn.
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Hell is more bearable than nothingness.
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The death-change comes. Death is another life. We bow our heads At going out, we think, and enter straight Another golden chamber of the king's Larger than this we leave, and lovelier. And then in shadowy glimpses, disconnect, The story, flower-like, closes thus its leaves. The will of God is all in all. He makes, Destroys, remakes, for His own pleasure, all.
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Star canto: star speaks light, and world to world Repeats the passage of the universe To God; the name of Christ--the one great word Well worth all languages in earth or heaven.
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I have a heart with room for every joy.
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Could I love less, I should be happier now.
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Kindness is wisdom.
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Oh, could we lift the future's sable shroud.
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The man who could withstand, with his fellow-men in single line, a charge of cavalry may lose all command of himself on the occurrence of a fire in his own house, because of some homely reminiscence unknown to the observing bystander.
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The first and worst of all frauds is to cheat one's self.
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When pride thaws, look for floods.
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We must not pluck death from the Maker's hand.
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Death is another life.
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Look on the bee upon the wing 'mong flowers; How brave, how bright his life! then mark, him hiv'd, Cramp'd, cringing in his self-built, social cell, Thus it is in the world-hive; most where men Lie deep in cities as in drifts.
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Obey thy genius, for a minister it is unto the throne of fate. Draw to thy soul, and centralize the rays which are around of the Divinity.
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If all were rich, gold would be penniless.
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The value of a thought cannot be told.
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What are ye orbs? The words of God? the Scriptures of the skies?
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Be cheerful and grateful for the good that you have: do not brood over fond hopes unrealized until a chain is fastened on each thought and wound around the heart. Nature intended you to be the fountain-spring of cheerfulness and social life, and not the mountain of despair and melancholy.
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We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
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The sun, centre and sire of light, The keystone of the world-built arch of heaven.