Beauty Is Truth, Truth Beauty

Fade Far Away, Dissolve, And Quite Forget.

My Friends Should Drink A Dozen Of Claret On My Tomb.

My Heart Aches, And A Drowsy Numbness Pains/ My Sense, As Though Of Hemlock I Had Drunk.

He Who Saddens At Thought Of Idleness Cannot Be Idle, / And He's Awake Who Thinks Himself Asleep.

Failure Is In A Sense The Highway To Success, As Each Discovery Of What Is False Leads Us To Seek Earnestly After What Is True.