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Two Of Perfect Virtue: One Dead, The Other Yet Unborn.
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Two of perfect virtue: one dead, the other yet unborn.
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Wandering between two worlds,--one dead, The other powerless to be born.
-- Matthew Arnold (1822-1888) -- Stanzas from the Grande Chartreuse...
Your monument shall be my gentle verse, Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read, And tongues to be your being shall rehearse When all the breathers of this world are dead
You still shall live--such virtue hath my pen-- Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men....
We have a perfect record on software schedules--we have never made one yet and we are always making excuses.
-- General Bernard Randolph...
I'm not quite dead yet, sir!
Is he Dead Yet?" by Benny Fishery
A single flow'r he sent me, since we met. All tenderly his messenger he chose
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet-- One perfect rose....
He left a corsair's name to other times, Link'd with one virtue and a thousand crimes.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- The Corsair, Canto iii, Stanza 24...
Timing must be perfect now. Two-timing must be better than perfect.