More from Andrea del Sarto (1855)
- A minute’s success pays the failure of years.
- Autumn wins you best by this its mute Appeal to sympathy for its decay.
- Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe, — all were for me
- Deeds let escape are never to be done.
- Error has no end.
- Fail I alone, in words and deeds? Why, all men strive and who succeeds?
Last reviewed 2026-07-06