“I need coffee to deal with this, and I’m not getting decaf.”

“Life is not a having and a getting, but a being and a becoming.”

“Humid the air! Leafless, yet soft as spring. The tender purple spray on copse and briers! And that sweet city with her dreaming spires, she needs not June for beauty's heightening. Lovely all the time she lies...”

“Weary of myself, and sick of asking What I am, and what I ought to be, At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea.”

“We are here on earth to do good to others. What the others are here for, I do not know.”

“Screen'd is this nook o'er the high, half-reap'd field, And here till sundown, Shepherd, will I be. Through the thick corn the scarlet poppies peep, And round green roots and yellowing stalks I see Pale blue convolvulus in tendrils creep: And air-swept lindens yield Their scent, and rustle down their perfumed showers Of bloom on the bent grass where I am laid, And bower me from the August sun with shade; And the eye travels down to Oxford's towers...”

“Come to me in my dreams, and thenBy day I shall be well again!For so the night will more than payThe hopeless longings of the day.”