John Greenleaf Whittier: Our lives are albums written through With good or ill, with false or true; And as the blessed angels turn The pages of o

Our lives are albums written through With good or ill, with false or true; And a — John Greenleaf Whittier

Our lives are albums written through With good or ill, with false or true; And as the blessed angels turn The pages of our years, God grant they read the good with smiles, And blot the ill with tears!

John Greenleaf Whittier

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Then take, good sir, your pleasure while you may; With life so short 'twere wron — Horace
Nasci miserum, vivere pœna, angustia mori. It is a misery to be born, a pain to — St. Bernard
Who but knows How it goes! Life's a last year's Nightingale, Love's a last year' — William Ernest Henley
We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. — Oscar Wilde
Woman is a ray of God, not a mere mistress, The Creator’s self as it were, not a — Rumi
The souls of emperors and cobblers are cast in the same mold...The same reason t — Michel de Montaigne
When your heart is broken, your boats are burned: nothing matters any more. It i — George Bernard Shaw
The romance of life begins and ends with two blank pages. Age and extreme old ag — Jean Paul Richter
It is well that war is so terrible, otherwise we should grow too fond of it. — Robert E. Lee
The sinews of war are those two metals (gold and silver). — Arthur Hull to Robert Cecil
Truth, in matters of religion, is simply the opinion that has survived. — Oscar Wilde
Youth is like spring, an overpraised season. — Samuel Butler