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• And from his ashes may be made The violet of his native land.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, xviii, Stanza 1...
• Who keeps the keys of all the creeds.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, xxiii, Stanza 2...
• And Thought leapt out to wed with Thought Ere Thought could wed itself with Speech.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, xxiii, Stanza 4...
• Gorgonized me from head to foot, With a stony British stare.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- Maud, Part i, Sect. xiii, Stanza 2...
• Her eyes are homes of silent prayer.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, xxxii, Stanza 1...
• Oh yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, liv, Stanza 1...
• Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky!
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, cv, Stanza 1...
• So many worlds, so much to do, So little done, such things to be.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, lxxiii, Stanza 1...
• Whose faith has centre everywhere, Nor cares to fix itself to form.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, xxxiii, Stanza 1...