„On Thee we fling our burdening woe,
O love Divine, forever dear:
Content to suffer, while we know,
Living and dying, Thou art near!“

—  Oliver Wendell Holmes, Reported in Josiah Hotchkiss Gilbert, Dictionary of Burning Words of Brilliant Writers (1895), p. 596.
Oliver Wendell Holmes foto
Oliver Wendell Holmes13
básník, esejista, lékař 1809 - 1894
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„For, while our souls in darkness dwell,
We know that Thou art there.“

—  Alfred Noyes English poet 1880 - 1958
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„But here shewed our courteous Lord the moaning and the mourning of the soul, signifying thus: I know well thou wilt live for my love, joyously and gladly suffering all the penance that may come to thee; but in as much as thou livest not without sin thou wouldest suffer, for my love, all the woe, all the tribulation and distress that might come to thee. And it is sooth.“

—  Julian of Norwich English theologian and anchoress 1342 - 1416
The Sixteenth Revelation, Chapter 82, Context: But here shewed our courteous Lord the moaning and the mourning of the soul, signifying thus: I know well thou wilt live for my love, joyously and gladly suffering all the penance that may come to thee; but in as much as thou livest not without sin thou wouldest suffer, for my love, all the woe, all the tribulation and distress that might come to thee. And it is sooth. But be not greatly aggrieved with sin that falleth to thee against thy will. And here I understood that that the Lord beholdeth the servant with pity and not with blame. For this passing life asketh not to live all without blame and sin.

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„Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers?
O sweet content!
Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplex'd?
O punishment!“

—  Thomas Dekker English dramatist and pamphleteer 1572 - 1632
Poem Sweet Content http://www.bartleby.com/101/204.html

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„Ah, Dinamene,
Thou hast forsaken him
Whose love for thee has never ceased,
And no more will he behold thee on this earth!
How early didst thou deem life of little worth!
I found thee
— Alas, to lose thee all too soon!
How strong, how cruel the waves!
Thou canst not ever know
My longing and my grief!
Did cold death still thy voice
Or didst thou of thyself
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O sea, O sky, O fate obscure!
To live without thee, Dinamene, avails me not.“

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„Thou art a monument, without a tomb,
And art alive still, while thy book doth live,
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—  Ben Jonson, On Shakespeare
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