The heights by great men reached and kept were not attained by sudden flight, but they, while their companions slept, were toiling upward in the night.
I shot an arrow into the air, it fell to earth, I knew not where.
The love of learning, the sequestered nooks, And all the sweet serenity of books.
Truly, this world can go on without us, if we would but think so.
What seems to us but dim funeral tapers may be heaven's distant lamps.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall