What Name To Call Thee By, O

And I Live On, But In Grief And Self-contempt, Left Here Without The Light I Loved So Much, In A Great Tempest And With Shrouds Unkempt.

Where You Are Is Of No Moment, But Only What You Are Doing There. It Is Not The Place That Ennobles You, But You The Place, And This Only By Doing That Which Is Great And Noble.

I Would Have Preferred To Have Been Born In Any Other Time Than Our Own.

Virtue Is Health, Vice Is Sickness.

He Loves But Lightly Who His Love Can Tell.