A weed is but an unloved flower.

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.

It has always been my belief that children inherit the suppressed tendencies of their parents. A clergyman's son frequently shows abnormal tastes for the pleasures that his father denied himself.

Use all your hidden forces. Do not miss The purpose of this life, and do not wait For circumstance to mould or change your fate.

How will it be when one of us alone Goes on that strange last journey of the soul? That certain search for an uncertain goal, That voyage on which no comradeship is known?

I was as pure as the morning When I first looked on your face; I knew I never could reach you In your high, exalted place.

With every deed you are sowing a seed, though the harvest you may not see.