The luck will alter and the star will rise.

Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain.

It is too maddening. I’ve got to fly off, right now, to some devilish navy yard, three hours in a seasick steamer, and after being heartily sick, I’ll have to speak three times, and then I’ll be sick coming home. Still, who would not be sick for England?

Commonplace people dislike tragedy because they dare not suffer and cannot exult.

Once in a century a man may be ruined or made insufferable by praise. But surely once in a minute something generous dies for want of it.

There are few earthly things more beautiful than a university a place where those who hate ignorance may strive to know, where those who perceive truth may strive to make others see.

It’s a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds’ cries.

Poetry is a mixture of common sense, which not all have, with an uncommon sense, which very few have.

I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky; and all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.

In this life he laughs longest who laughs last.

Since the printing press came into being, poetry has ceased to be the delight of the whole community of man; it has become the amusement and delight of the few.

The luck will alter and the star will rise.