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— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow"O Music! language of the soul, Of love, of God to man; Bright beam from heaven thrilling, That lightens sorrow's weight."
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Wit is something more than a gymnastic trick of the intellect; true wit implies a beam of thought into the essence of a question, a flash that lights up a situation. Wit suggests the delicate but delightful play of a rapier in the hands of a master.
— Arthur Lynch
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Oft as by chance, a little while apart The pall of empty, loveless hours withdrawn, Sweet Beauty, opening on the impoverished heart, Beams like a jewel on the breast of dawn.
— Alan Seeger
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