Some must follow and some command, through all are made oclay.

No man is so poor as to have nothing worth giving.

In the elder days of art Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part, For the Gods are everywhere

Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.

There is nothing perfectly secure but poverty.

Ye are better than all the ballads That ever were sung or said; For ye are living poems, And all the rest are dead.

Kind hearts are the gardens, Kind thoughts are the roots, Kind words are the flowers, Kind deeds are the fruits, Take care of your garden And keep out the weeds, Fill it with sunshine, Kind words, and Kind deeds.