| Quotes |
Topic |
| Morality | Morality without religion is only a kind of dead reckoning,--an endeavor to find our place on a cloudy sea by measuring the distance we have run, but without any observation of the heavenly bodies. |
| Music | Music is the universal language of mankind. |
| Nature | The counterfeit and counterpart of Nature is reproduced in art. |
| Night | And the night shall be filled with music And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away. |
| Night | I heard the trailing garments of the Night Sweep through her marble halls. |
| Nightingales | To the red rising moon, and loud and deep The nightingale is singing from the steep. |
| Nobility | Be noble in every thought And in every deed! |
| Nobility | Noble by birth, yet nobler by great deeds. |
| Nostalgia | A feeling of sadness and longing that is not akin to pain, and resembles sorrow only as the mist resembles the rain. |
| Painting | The picture that approaches sculpture nearest Is the best picture. |
| Parting | Good-night! good-night! as we so oft have said Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days That are no more, and shall no more return. Thou hast but taken up thy lamp and gone to bed, I stay a little longer, as one stays To cover up the embers that still burn. |
| Parting | My Book and Heart Shall never part. |
| Past | Enjoy the spring of love and youth, To some good angel leave the rest, For time will teach thee soon the truth, "There are no birds in last year's nest." |
| Patience | Rule by patience, Laughing Water! |
| Patience | Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labour and to wait. |
| Patience | All things come round to him who will but wait. |
| Pen | The pen became a clarion. |
| Perseverance | For thine own purpose, thou hast sent The strife and the discouragement! |
| Post | Kind messages, that pass from land to land, Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history, In which we feel the pressure of a hand,-- One touch of fire,--and all the rest is mystery! |
| Proverbs | Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And out hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. |
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