"There is nothing stable in the world; uproar's your only music." — John Keats

Here lies one whose name was writ in water.

Scenery is fine - but human nature is finer.

I have two luxuries to brood over in my walks, your loveliness and the hour of my death. O that I could have possession of them both in the same minute.

Land and sea, weakness and decline are great separators, but death is the great divorcer for ever.