| Quotes |
Topic |
| Glory | Go where glory waits thee; But while fame elates thee, Oh! still remember me. |
| Glory | Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever. |
| Gold | Rich and rare were the gems she wore, And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore. |
| Greece | To Greece we give our shining blades. |
| Humility | Humility, that low, sweet root, From which all heavenly virtues shoot. |
| Ivy | On my velvet couch reclining, Ivy leaves my brow entwining, While my soul expands with glee, What are kings and crowns to me? |
| Jewels | Rich and rare were the gems she wore, And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore. |
| Judgment | There written all Black as the damning drops that fall From the denouncing Angel's pen, Ere Mercy weeps them out again. |
| Love | Romantic love is an illusion. Most of us discover this truth at the end of a love affair or else when the sweet emotions of love lead us into marriage and then turn down their flames. |
| Love | The heart that has truly loved never forgets But as truly loves on to the close. |
| Meeting | And soon, too soon, we part with pain, To sail o'er silent seas again. |
| Morality | I find the doctors and the sages Have differ'd in all climes and ages, And two in fifty scarce agree On what is pure morality. |
| Morality | There is something more horrible than hoodlums, churls and vipers, and that is knaves with moral justification for their cause. |
| Morality | I'm one of the undeserving poor . . . up ugen middle-class morality all the time . . . . What is middle-class morality? Just an excuse for never giving me anything. |
| Paradise | One morn a Peri at the gate Of Eden stood disconsolate. |
| Poppies | Find me next a Poppy posy, Type of his harangues so dozy. |
| Post | Good-bye--my paper's out so nearly, I've only room for, Yours sincerely. |
| Printing | Though an angel should write, still 'tis devils must print. |
| Proverbs | Like a young eagle, who has lent his plume To fledge the shaft by which he meets his doom, See their own feathers pluck'd, to wing the dart, Which rank corruption destines for their heart! |
| Proverbs | To live with them is far less sweet, Than to remember thee! |
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