But from my grave across my brow Plays no wind of healing now, And fire and ice within me fight Beneath the suffocating night. - Alfred Edward Housman

My heart always warms to people who do not come to see me, especially Americans, to whom it seems to be more of an effort.

It is supposed that there has been progress in the science of textual criticism, and the most frivolous pretender has learned to talk superciliously about "the old unscientific days". The old unscientific days are everlasting; they are here and now; they are renewed perennially by the ear which takes formulas in, and the tongue which gives them out again, and the mind which meanwhile is empty of reflexion and stuffed with self-complacency.

Lovers lying two and two Ask not whom they sleep beside, And the bridegroom all night through Never turns him to the bride.