If thou shouldn'st never see my face again, pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.
~ from "Idylls of the King" by Alfred Tennyson
When from our better selves we have too long
Been parted by the hurrying world, and droop,
Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired,
How gracious, how benign, is Solitude.