What's up is faith, what's down is heresy.

The wind sounds like a silver wire, And from beyond the noon a fire Is pour'd upon the hills, and nigher The skies stoop down in their desire; And, isled in sudden seas of light, My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight, Bursts into blossom in his sight.

No rock so hard but that a little wave may beat admission in a thousand years.

Silence, beautiful voice.

I am a part of all that I have met.

Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and I linger on the shore, And the individual withers, and the world is more and more.

Cricket, however, has more in it than mere efficiency. There is something called the spirit of cricket, which cannot be defined.