The nearer the dawn the darker the night.

A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.

The day is done; and slowly from the scene the stooping sun upgathers his spent shafts, and puts them back into his golden quiver!

Were a star quenched on high,For ages would its light,Still travelling downward from the sky,Shine on our mortal sight. So when a great man dies,For years beyond our ken,The light he leaves behind him liesUpon the paths of men.

As Unto the bow the the cord is , So unto the man is woman; Though she bends him, she obeys him, Though she draws him , yet she follows: Useless each without the other.

The mind of the scholar, if he would leave it large and liberal, should come in contact with other minds.

The talent of success is nothing more than doing what you can do, well.