Talk not of the river or lake To those who have looked on the sea.

Thank Fate for foes! I hold mine dear As valued friends. He cannot know The zest of life who runneth here His earthly race without a foe.

Just a little every day That's the way Children learn to read and write Bit by bit and mite by mite.

There are ghosts in the room. As I sit here alone, from the dark corners there They come out of the gloom, And they stand at my side and they lean on my chair.

All in the dark we grope along, And if we go amiss We learn at least which path is wrong, And there is gain in this. We do not always win the race By only running right; We have to tread the mountain's base Before we reach its height.

Always continue the climb. It is possible for you to do whatever you choose, if you first get to know who you are and are willing to work with a power that is greater than ourselves to do it.

It has ever been since time began, and ever will be, till time lose breath, that love is a mood - no more - to man, and love to a woman is life or death.