Waste Not Fresh Tears Over Old Griefs.

We Know The Good, We Apprehend It Clearly; But We Can't Bring It To Achievement.

Lady, The Sun's Light To Our Eyes Is Dear, And Fair The Tranquil Reaches Of The Sea, And Flowery Earth In May, And Bounding Waters; And So Right Many Fair Things I Might Praise; Yet Nothing Is So Radiant And So Fair As For Souls Childless, With Desire Sore-smitten, To See The Light Of Babes About The House.

Fate Finds For Every Man; His Share Of Misery.

Wealth Stays With Us A Little Moment If At All: Only Our Characters Are Steadfast, Not Our Gold.

To The Ignorant, Even The Words Of Wise Seem Foolishness.