Merit Challenges Envy.

Parting Is Worse Than Death; It Is Death Of Love!

What Judgment I Had Increases Rather Than Diminishes; And Thoughts, Such As They Are, Come Crowding In So Fast Upon Me, That My Only Difficulty Is To Choose Or Reject; To Run Them Into Verse Or To Give Them The Other Harmony Of Prose.

The Winds That Never Moderation Knew, Afraid To Blow Too Much, Too Faintly Blew; Or Out Of Breath With Joy, Could Not Enlarge Their Straighten'd Lungs Or Conscious Of Their Charge.

Thou Strong Seducer, Opportunity!

Death In Itself Is Nothing; But We Fear To Be We Know Not What, We Know Not Where.