"My sun sets to rise again."
"Poetry, like love, is something we never truly say goodbye to."
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Source: 'In a Balcony' (1855) l. 651
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"Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay."
"Grow old with me! The best is yet to be."
"Take away love and our earth is a tomb."
"Stung by the splendour of a sudden thought."
"Motherhood: All love begins and ends there."