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All things that are on earth shall wholly pass away, Except the love of God, which shall live and last for aye.
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All great poets have been men of great knowledge.
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I grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then withdrawn.
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These struggling tides of life that seem In wayward, aimless course to tend, Are eddies of the mighty stream That rolls to its appointed end.
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Adversity is the nurse of greatness which roughly rocks her patients back to health.
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Is not thy home among the flowers?
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Gently - so have good men taught - Gently, and without grief, the old shall glide Into the new; the eternal flow of things, Like a bright river of the fields of heaven, Shall journey onward in perpetual peace.
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Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase is fruits of innocence and blessedness.
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Genius, with all its pride in its own strength, is but a dependent quality, and cannot put forth its whole powers nor claim all its honors without an amount of aid from the talents and labors of others which it is difficult to calculate.
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Flowers spring up unsown and die ungathered.
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The victory of endurance born.
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Truth gets well if she is run over by a locomotive, while error dies of lockjaw if she scratches her finger.
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I shall seeThe hour of death draw near to me,Hope, blossoming within my heart. . . .