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1 " I prithee send me back my heart,Since I cannot have thine;For if from yours you will not part,Why, then, shouldst thou have mine?Yet now I think on't, let it lie,To find it were in vain;For thou hast a thief in either eyeWould steal it back again.Why should two hearts in one breast lie,And yet not lodge together?O Love! where is thy sympathy,If thus our breasts thou sever?But love is such a mystery,I cannot find it out;For when I think I'm best resolved,I then am in most doubt.Then farewell care, and farewell woe;I will no longer pine;For I'll believe I have her heart,As much as she hath mine. "
2 " Too many seek the “good” life, whereas only a life of meaning will satisfy the existential ache within our breasts that begs the question of why we are here, what we are to do with this life, and according to what principles we are to live. This is a question best answered at the beginning, not at the end, of our lives, for the answer will determine not only the direction of our lives but also whether we will die in comfort and peace or in hopelessness and despair. "
3 " THE HOST is riding from Knocknarea And over the grave of Clooth-na-bare; Caolte tossing his burning hair And Niamh calling Away, come away: Empty your heart of its mortal dream. The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round, Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound, Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are a-gleam, Our arms are waving, our lips are apart; And if any gaze on our rushing band, We come between him and the deed of his hand, We come between him and the hope of his heart. The host is rushing ’twixt night and day, And where is there hope or deed as fair? Caolte tossing his burning hair, And Niamh calling Away, come away "
― W.B. Yeats
4 " Nature that framed us of four elements, warring within our breasts for regiment, doth teach us all to have aspiring minds. "
― Niccolò Machiavelli
