The rays of happiness, like those of light, are colorless when unbroken.
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears.
The student has his Rome, his Florence, his whole glowing Italy, within the four walls of his library. He has in his books the ruins of an antique world and the glories of a modern one.
I shot an arrow into the air, it fell to earth, I knew not where.
The rapture of pursuing is the prize the vanquished gain.
Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend.