A boy's will is the wind's will, and the thought's of youth are long, long thoughhts
If I am not worth the wooing, I surely am not worth the winning!
The twilight that surrounds the border-land of old romance.
Some must follow and some command, through all are made oclay.
In the long run men hit only what they aim at.
Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time.