Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so read more
They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so meekly,
Spake with us on earth no more!
The holiest of all holidays are those kept by ourselves in silence and apart; the secret anniversaries of the heart.
The holiest of all holidays are those kept by ourselves in silence and apart; the secret anniversaries of the heart.
Our pleasures and our discontents,
Are rounds by which we may ascend.
Our pleasures and our discontents,
Are rounds by which we may ascend.
The greatest firmness is the greatest mercy.
The greatest firmness is the greatest mercy.
He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
