Oft when the white, still dawn lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart, I have felt it like a glory in my heart.

For all your days be prepared, and meet them ever alike. When you are the anvil, bear - when you are the hammer, strike.

Oft when the white, still dawn lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart, I have felt it like a glory in my heart.

Lincoln, the Man of the People

That in the human plan nothing is worth the making if it does not make the man.

Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans upon his hoe and gazes on the ground, the emptiness of ages in his face, and on his back the burden of the world.

I fear the vermin that shall undermineSenate and citadel and school and shrine.