The plague of gold strikes far and near.

Thou large-brain'd woman and large-hearted man.

World's use is cold, world's love is vain, world's cruelty is bitter bane; but is not the fruit of pain.

If we tried To sink the past beneath our feet, be sure The future would not stand.

What we call Life is a condition of the soul. And the soul must improve in happiness and wisdom, except by its own fault. These tears in our eyes, these faintings of the flesh, will not hinder such improvement.

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

Get work, get work; Be sure 'tis better than what you work to get.