The course of my long life hath reached at last in fragile bark over a tempestuous sea the common harbor, where must rendered be account for all the actions of the past.

Each morning sees some task begin, each evening sees it close.

Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.

Resolve and thou art free.

These stars of earth, these golden flowers.

Some critics are like chimney-sweepers; they put out the fire below, and frighten the swallows from their nests above; they scrape a long time in the chimney, cover themselves with soot, and bring nothing away but a bag of cinders, and then sing from the top of the house as if they had built it.

Yes, we must ever be friends; and of all who offer you friendship Let me be ever the first, the truest, the nearest and dearest.