Much of the possibility of being cheerful comes from the faculty of throwing oneself beyond oneself.

Like to write? Of course, of course I do. I seem to live while I write - it is life, for me.

And each man stands with his face in the light. Of his own drawn sword, ready to do what a hero can.

I begin to think that none are so bold as the timid, when they are fairly roused.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use

Measure not the work until the day's out and the labor done.

I saw, in gradual vision through my tears, The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years, Those of my own life, who by turns had flung A shadow across me.