Truth sits upon the lips of dying men. – Matthew Arnold
And that sweet city with her dreaming spires,
She needs not June for beautys heightening… – Matthew Arnold

Truth sits upon the lips of dying men. – Matthew Arnold
And that sweet city with her dreaming spires,
She needs not June for beautys heightening… – Matthew Arnold
This strange disease of modern life, with its sick hurry, its divided aims. – Matthew Arnold
Bald as the bare mountain tops are bald, with a baldness full of grandeur. – Matthew Arnold