How much of human life is lost in waiting!

The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn of the crow.

We are forlorn like children, and experienced like old men, we are crude and sorrowful and superficial- I believe we are lost.

Never had he lost himself in a book as one does when that single work seems the most important in the world; unique, a little, all-embracing universe, into which one plunges and submerges oneself in order to draw nourishment out of every syllable.

I have lost all sense of home, having moved about so much. It means to me now-only that place were the books are kept.

When faith is lost, when honor dies, The man is dead.

Lost in the solitude of his immense power, he began to lose direction.

The dignity of truth is lost With much protesting.

Try to be one upon whom nothing is lost.

The only paradise is a lost paradise.