All was silent as before - All silent save the dripping rain.

The soul...is audible, not visible.

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.

Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals or forts.

The rapture of pursuing is the prize the vanquished gain.

As I gaze upon the sea! All the old romantic legends, all my dreams, come back to me.

A boy's will is the wind's will.