No failure is final unless you ratify it.
A prudent pharmacist often vends something for your complaint. But wine merchant you do this invariably.
There is a garden in her eyes, where roses and white lilies flow.
From heav'nly thoughts all true delight doth spring.
Time's fatal wings do ever forward fly; To every day we live, a day we die.
Let now the chimneys blaze And cups o’erflow with wine. . . The summer hath his joys, And winter his delights; Though love and all his pleasures are but toys, They shorten tedious nights.
Never love unless you can bear with all the faults of man!
If only religion could be brought to take an interest in this earthly future, what a help it would be!. . . Think of the appeal to the less spiritual of us, to those who never did get enthusiastic about eternity, or care so tenderly about their own souls, yet who could rise to the thought of improving this world for the children they love, and their children after them.
I pray for no more youth To perish before its prime; That Revenge and iron-heated War May fade with all that has gone before Into the night of time.
How does it feel, MacKayla? You have a piece of me in your mouth. Would you like another?
Do not be misled by hearing of anyone's reputation.