The Heart Will Break, But Broken Live

The Simple Wordsworth . . . / Who, Both By Precept And Example, Shows / That Prose Is Verse, And Verse Is Merely Prose.

I Slept And Dreamt That Life Was Beauty; I Woke And Found That Life Was Duty.

Near This Spot Are Deposited The Remains Of One Who Possessed Beauty Without Vanity, Strength Without Insolence, Courage Without Ferocity, And All The Virtues Of Man, Without His Vices. This Praise, Which Would Be Unmeaning Flattery If Inscribed Over Human Ashes, Is But A Just Tribute To The Memory Of Botswain, A Dog.

Opinions Are Made To Be Changed Or How Is Truth To Be Got At?

No Hand Can Make The Clock Strike For Me The Hours That Are Passed.