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• And from his ashes may be made The violet of his native land.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, xviii, Stanza 1...
• Her eyes are homes of silent prayer.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, xxxii, Stanza 1...
• Oh yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, liv, Stanza 1...
• Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky!
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, cv, Stanza 1...
• The shadow cloak'd from head to foot.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, xxiii, Stanza 1...
• There lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, xcvi, Stanza 3...
• And Thought leapt out to wed with Thought Ere Thought could wed itself with Speech.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, xxiii, Stanza 4...
• So many worlds, so much to do, So little done, such things to be.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, lxxiii, Stanza 1...
• I held it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.
  -- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, i, Stanza 1...