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.

At the heart of the cyclone tearing the sky is a place of central calm.

In vain we build the city if we do not first build the man.

There is a destiny which makes us brothers; none goes his way alone. All that we send into the lives of others comes back into our own.

Three were the fates. Poverty that chains; gray drudgery that grinds the hope away, and gaping ignorance that starves the soul.

Here is the Truth in a little creed, Enough for all the roads we go: In Love is all the law we need, In Christ is all the God we know.

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