I saw the long line of the vacant shore, The sea-weed and the shells upon the sand, And the brown rocks left bare on every hand, As if the ebbing tide would flow no more.

The tide rises, the tide falls, The twilight darkens, the curlew calls; . . . . The little waves, with their soft, white hands, Efface the footprints in the sands, And the tide rises, the tide falls.

Whoever benefits his enemy with straightforward intention that man's enemies will soon fold their hands in devotion.

I have an affection for a great city. I feel safe in the neighborhood of man, and enjoy the sweet security of the streets.

The dawn is not distant, nor is the night starless; love is eternal.

Joy, temperance, and repose, slam the door on the doctor's nose.