The many fail: the one succeeds.

Nature, so far as in her lies, imitates God.

God gives us love! Something to love He lends us; but when love is grown To ripeness, that on which it throve Falls off, and love is left alone: This is the curse of time.

Name and fame! to fly sublime Through the courts, the camps, the schools Is to be the ball of Time, Bandied in the hands of fools.

'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Ah, Christ, that it were possible, For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.

There's no glory like those who save their country.