Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
read more

Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
Making it momentany as a sound,
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream,
Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,
And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!'
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
So quick bright things come to confusion.

Life is to be lived. If you have to support yourself, you had bloody well better find some way that read more

Life is to be lived. If you have to support yourself, you had bloody well better find some way that is going to be interesting. And you don't do that by sitting around wondering about yourself.

Of a truth, men are mystically united: a mystic bond of
brotherhood makes all men one.

Of a truth, men are mystically united: a mystic bond of
brotherhood makes all men one.

Yet, taught by time, my heart has learned to glow
For other's good, and melt at other's woe.

Yet, taught by time, my heart has learned to glow
For other's good, and melt at other's woe.

Never elated while one man's oppress'd;
Never dejected while another's blessed.

Never elated while one man's oppress'd;
Never dejected while another's blessed.

It [true love] is the secret sympathy,
The silver link, the silken tie,
Which heart to heart, read more

It [true love] is the secret sympathy,
The silver link, the silken tie,
Which heart to heart, and mind to mind
In body and in soul can bind.

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds.

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds.

For I no sooner in my heart divin'd
My heart, which by a secret harmony
Still moves read more

For I no sooner in my heart divin'd
My heart, which by a secret harmony
Still moves with thine, joined in connection sweet.

Our souls sit close and silently within,
And their own web from their own entrails spin;
And read more

Our souls sit close and silently within,
And their own web from their own entrails spin;
And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such,
That, spider like, we feel the tenderest touch.