The troubles of our proud and angry dust are from eternity, and shall not fail. Bear them we can, and if we can we must. Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
It appears to me impossible that I should cease to exist, or that this active, restless spirit, equally alive to joy and sorrow, should be only organized dust.
Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.
Our lives feel like these epochs, but really, we are dust in the wind.
Watch my dust.
We draw our strength from the very despair in which we have been forced to live. We shall endure.
Human misery must somewhere have a stop; there is no wind that always blows a storm.
Thou know'st the first time that we smell the air we wawl and cry. When we are born we cry, that we are come to this great state of fools.
Let us not listen to those who think we ought to be angry with our enemies, and who believe this to be great and manly. Nothing is so praiseworthy, nothing so clearly shows a great and noble soul, as clemency and readiness to forgive.
We shall find peace. We shall hear angels, we shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds.
Clouds and darkness surround us, yet Heaven is just, and the day of triumph will surely come, when justice and truth will be vindicated.