Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Now I am near to the getting of my crown, which shall be sure; for I bless the Lord, and desire all of you to bless Him that He hath brought me here, and makes me triumph over devils, and men, and sin: they shall wound me no more.
Oh while I live, to be the ruler of life, not a slave, to meet life as a powerful conqueror, and nothing exterior to me will ever take command of me.
The robe of flesh wears thin, and with the years God shines through all things.
I am not immortal. Faustus and I are the also-ran.
My sword I give to him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him that can get it.
There is a part of me that will forever want to be walking under autumn leaves, carrying a briefcase containing the works of Shakespeare and Yeats and a portable chess set. I will pass an old tree under which once on a summer night I lay on the grass with a fragrant young woman and we quoted e.e. cummings back and forth.
For the people who ostensibly wish me well or are worried about my immortal soul, I say I take it kindly.
Bid me to love, and I will give a loving heart to thee.
Mysterious love, uncertain treasure, hast thou more of pain or pleasure! Endless torments dwell about thee: Yet who would live, and live without thee!
Take away the contests of the martyrs, and you have taken away their crowns.