Truth . . . and if mine eyes Can bear its blaze, and trace its symmetries, Measure its distance, and its advent wait, I am no prophet - I but calculate.

Water is the mother of the vine, the nurse and fountain of fecundity, the adorner and refresher of the world.

Men of thought and men of action, clear the Way!

Tell me, ye wingèd winds That round my pathway roar, Know ye not some spot Where mortals weep no more?

He who has mingled in the fray of duty that the brave endure, must have made foes. If you have none, small is the work that you have done.

An arrow may fly through the air and leave no trace; but an ill thought leaves a trail like a serpent.

Three causes especially have excited the discontent of mankind; and, by impelling us to seek remedies for the irremediable, have bewildered us in a maze of madness and error. These are death, toil, and the ignorance of the future.