Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning, every poem an epitaph. - T. S. Eliot

You will go on, and when you have prevailed
You can say: at this point many a one has failed.
But what have I, but what have I, my friend,
To give you, what can you receive from me?
Only the friendship and the sympathy
Of one about to reach her journey's end.
I shall sit here, serving tea to friends...

Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song,
Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long
But at my back in a cold blast I hear
The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear

And we all say: OH! Well I never! Was there ever A Cat so clever As Magical Mr. Mistoffelees!