He that respects himself is safe from others. He wears a coat of mail that none can pierce.

The hooded clouds, like friars, Tell their beads in drops of rain.

He had mittens, Minjekahwun, Magic mittens made of deer-skin; When upon his hands he wore them, He could smite the rocks asunder, He could grind them into powder.

It is autumn; not without But within me is the cold. Youth and spring are all about; It is I that have grown old.

The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide.

Think not because no man sees, such things will remain unseen.

Glorious indeed is the world of God around us, but more glorious the world of God within us.