The air of summer was sweeter than wine.

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

If we could read the secret history of our enemies we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.

Is this is a dream? O, if it be a dream, Let me sleep on, and do not wake me yet!

How can I teach your children gentleness and mercy to the weak, and reverence for life, which in its nakedness and excess, is still a gleam of God's omnipotence, when by your laws, your actions and your speech, you contradict the very things I teach?

In this world a man must either be anvil or hammer.

A Lady with a Lamp shall stand In the great history of the land, A noble type of good, Heroic womanhood.