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Theirs is not to make reply: Theirs is not to reason why: Theirs is but to do and die.
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So many worlds, so much to do, so little done, such things to be.
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What! I should call on that Infinite Love that has served us so well? Infinite cruelty rather, that made everlasting hell, Made us, foreknew us, foredoom'd us, and does what he will with his own; Better our dead brute mother who never has heard us groan.
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I stood on a tower in the wet, And New Year and Old Year met, And winds were roaring and blowing: And I said, "O years, that meet in tears, Have ye aught that is worth the knowing? Science enough and exploring, Wanderers coming and going, Matter enough for deploring, But aught that is worth the knowing?
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The old order changeth yielding place to new And God fulfills himself in many ways Lest one good custom should corrupt the world. Comfort thyself: what comfort is in me I have lived my life and that which I have done May he within himself make pure but thou If thou shouldst never see my face again Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.
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All is well, tho' faith and form Be sunder'd in the night of fear.
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Things seen are mightier than things heard.
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Launch your vessel, And crowd your canvas, And, ere it vanishes Over the margin, After it, follow it, FollowThe Gleam.
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He makes no friends who never made a foe.
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There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming, my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life, my fate; The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;" And the white rose weeps, "She is late;" The larkspur listens, "I hear; I hear;" And the lily whispers, "I wait."
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Words, like nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.
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I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time.
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If you don't concentrate on what you are doing then the thing that you are doing is not what you are thinking.
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Wearing all that weight Of learning lightly like a flower.
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Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control; these three alone lead life to sovereign power.
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Battering the gates of heaven with the storms of prayer.
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Who is wise in love, love most, say least.
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Men at most differ as Heaven and Earth, but women, worst and best, as Heaven and Hell.
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Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May.
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'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.