Who said “Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep -- he hath awakened from the dream of…”?

“Bereavement is a darkness impenetrable to the imagination of the unbereaved.”

“On the death of a friend, we should consider that the fates through confidence have devolved on us the task of a double living, that we have henceforth to fulfill the promise of our friend's life also, in our own, to the world.”

“The sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow from which we refuse to be divorced. Every other wound we seek to heal -- every other affliction to forget: but this wound we consider it a duty to keep open -- this affliction we cherish and brood over in solitude.”

“If, as I can't help suspecting, the dead also feel the pains of separation (and this may be one of their purgatorial sufferings), then for both lovers, and for all pairs of lovers without exception, bereavement is a universal and integral part of our experience of love.”

“For precious friends hid in death's dateless night.”

“O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?”

“How wonderful is death! Death and his brother sleep.”

“Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.”

“Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.”

“The gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present.”

“Revenge is the naked idol of the worship of a semi-barbarous age.”