Oft when the white, still dawn lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart, I have felt it like a glory in my heart.
Sorrows come to stretch out places in the heart for joy.
He fed his spirit with the bread of books
That in the human plan nothing is worth the making if it does not make the man.
In vain we build the city if we do not first build the man.
By a divine paradox, wherever there is one slave there are two