We look before and after, And pine for what is not, Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught: Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

We look before and after,
And pine for what is not;
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell
Of saddest thought.

Change is certain. Peace is followed by disturbances; departure of evil men by their return. Such recurrences should not constitute occasions for sadness but realities for awareness, so that one may be happy in the interim.

All of us who are worth anything, spend our manhood in unlearning the follies, or expiating the mistakes of our youth.

Man has no right to kill his brother. It is no excuse that he does so in uniform: he only adds the infamy of servitude to the crime of murder.

If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?