Thrice happy is that humble pair, Beneath the level of all care! Over whose heads those arrows fly, Of sad distrust and jealousy.

The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.

Do you know what is the most frustrating thing in this world? It is not having someone to return to when you are tired, sad or lonely. Someone you could really trust, someone you could really talk to about anything and feel completely safe and understood, someone who really cares about you, fears for you and can’t rest without seeing you happy.

Vexed sailors cursed the rain, for which poor shepherds prayed in vain.

All human things Of dearest value hang on slender strings.

Tea does our fancy aid, Repress those vapours which the head invade And keeps that palace of the soul serene.