The worst thing about some men is that when they are not drunk they are sober.

We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.

Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye That's all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die.

The innocent and the beautiful have no enemy but time.

Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye That's all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die.

You know what the Englishman's idea of compromise is? He says, Some people say there is a God. Some people say there is no God. The truth probably lies somewhere between these two statements.

Man can embody truth but he cannot know it.

I think it better that in times like these a poet's mouth be silent, for in truth we have no gift to set a statesman right.

Books are but waste paper unless we spend in action the wisdom we get from thought - asleep. When we are weary of the living, we may repair to the dead, who have nothing of peevishness, pride, or design in their conversation.

If suffering brings wisdom, I would wish to be less wise.