Robert Browning

Love is the energy of life.

A minute__ success pays the failure of years.

how sad and bad and mad it was - but then, how it was sweet

Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made ...

The power of the night, the press of the storm, the post of the foe; where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, yet, the strong man must go.

A lion may die of an ass's kick.

In this world, who can do a thing, will not;And who would do it, cannot, I perceive:Yet the will's somewhat _ somewhat, too, the power __nd thus we half-men struggle.

There is an inmost center in us all, where truth abides in fullness;....and, to know, rather consists in opening out a way where the imprisoned splendor may escape, then in effecting entry for a light supposed to be without.

Who hears music, feels his solitudePeopled at once.

Days decrease, / And autumn grows, autumn in everything.

Love, hope, fear, faith - these make humanity; These are its sign and note and character

My sun sets to rise again.

Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,Or what's a heaven for?

God is the perfect poet.

Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.

If you get simple beauty and naught else, you get about the best thing God invents.

Grow old with me! The best is yet to be.

Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.