“Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:Such comfort as do lusty young men feelWhen well-apparell'd April on the heelOf limping winter treads, even such delightAmong fresh female buds shall you this nightInherit at my house; hear all, all see,And like her most whose merit most shall be:”

“If we insist on keeping Hell (or even earth) we shall not see Heaven: if we accept Heaven we shall not be able to retain even the smallest and most intimate souvenirs of Hell.”

“Maybe the paths that you each shall tread are already laid before your feet though you do not see them”

“But when ye come, and all the flowers are dying,If I am dead, as dead I well may be,You'll come and find the place where I am lying,And kneel and say Ave there for me,And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me,And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be,For you will bend and tell me that you love me,And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me”

“Do not trouble your hearts overmuch with thought of the road tonight. Maybe the paths that you shall each tread are already laid before your feet, though you do not see them.”

“Tread softly! All the earth is holy ground.”