But over all things brooding slept
The quiet sense of something lost.

But over all things brooding slept
The quiet sense of something lost.

Our wasted oil unprofitably burns,
Like hidden lamps in old sepulchral urns.

Our wasted oil unprofitably burns,
Like hidden lamps in old sepulchral urns.

Every man is afraid of something. That's how you know he's in love with you; when he is afraid of read more

Every man is afraid of something. That's how you know he's in love with you; when he is afraid of losing you.

For 'tis a truth well known to most,
That whatsoever thing is lost,
We seek it, ere read more

For 'tis a truth well known to most,
That whatsoever thing is lost,
We seek it, ere it comes to light,
In every cranny but the right.

What you lend is lost; when you ask for it back, you may find a
friend made an enemy read more

What you lend is lost; when you ask for it back, you may find a
friend made an enemy by your kindness. If you begin to press him
further, you have the choice of two things--either to lose your
loan or lose your friend.
[Lat., Si quis mutuum quid dederit, sit pro proprio perditum;
Cum repetas, inimicum amicum beneficio invenis tuo.
Si mage exigere cupias, duarum rerum exoritur optio;
Vel illud, quod credideris perdas, vel illum amicum, amiseris.]

Now those memories come back to haunt meThey haunt me like a curse

Now those memories come back to haunt meThey haunt me like a curse

One of the great penalties those of us who live our lives in full view of the public must pay read more

One of the great penalties those of us who live our lives in full view of the public must pay is the loss of that most cherished birthright of man's privacy.

That loss is common would not make
My own less bitter, rather more:
Too common! Never morning read more

That loss is common would not make
My own less bitter, rather more:
Too common! Never morning wore
To evening, but some heart did break.

The loss which is unknown is no loss at all.

The loss which is unknown is no loss at all.