The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide.

And in the wreck of noble lives Something immortal still survives.

Let the dead Past bury its dead!

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

Man is always more than he can know of himself; consequently, his accomplishments, time and again, will come as a surprise to him.

Listen my children and you shall hear, Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere

The everyday cares and duties, which men call drudgery, are the weights and counterpoises of the clock of time, giving its pendulum a true vibration and its hands a regular motion; and when they cease to hang upon its wheels, the pendulum no longer swings, the hands no longer move the clock stands still.