I give the fight up: let there be an end, a privacy, an obscure nook for me. I want to be forgotten even by God.
Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.
In front of us lay a smooth sandy beach, beyond which rose gradually a high wooded country, and behind us was the sea, studded with numerous islands of every variety of form.
On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven a perfect round.
Ambition is not what man does… but what man would do.
White shall not neutralize the black, nor good compensate bad in man, absolve him so: life’s business being just the terrible choice.
Stung by the splendour of a sudden thought.
What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew.
The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o’er the land, Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength.
But what if I fail of my purpose here? It is but to keep the nerves at strain, to dry one’s eyes and laugh at a fall, and baffled, get up and begin again.