'Tis silence all,
And pleasing expectation.

'Tis silence all,
And pleasing expectation.

Blessed are those that nought expect,
For they shall not be disappointed.

Blessed are those that nought expect,
For they shall not be disappointed.

I suppose, to use our national motto, something will turn up.
[Motto of Vraibleusia.]

I suppose, to use our national motto, something will turn up.
[Motto of Vraibleusia.]

I do my thing and you do yours. I am not in this world to live up to your expectations, read more

I do my thing and you do yours. I am not in this world to live up to your expectations, and you are not in this world to live up to mine. You are you and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, then it is beautiful. If not, it can't be helped.

Promising is the very air o' th' time; it opens the eyes of
expectation. Performance is ever duller for read more

Promising is the very air o' th' time; it opens the eyes of
expectation. Performance is ever duller for his act; and, but in
the plainer and simpler kind of people, the deed of saying is
quite out of use. To promise is most courtly and fashionable;
performance is a kind of will or testament which argues a great
sickness in his judgment that makes it.

We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aid, but by an infinite expectation of the read more

We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aid, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn.

I have known him [Micawber] come home to supper with a flood of
tears, and a declaration that nothing read more

I have known him [Micawber] come home to supper with a flood of
tears, and a declaration that nothing was now left but a jail;
and go to bed making a calculation of the expense of putting
bow-windows to the house, "in case anything turned up," which was
his favorite expression.

"Yet doth he live!" exclaims th' impatient heir,
And sighs for sables which he must not wear.

"Yet doth he live!" exclaims th' impatient heir,
And sighs for sables which he must not wear.

Serene I told my hands and wait,
Nor care for wind or tide nor sea;
I rave read more

Serene I told my hands and wait,
Nor care for wind or tide nor sea;
I rave no more 'gainst time or fate,
For lo! my own shall come to me.