The surest pledge of a deathless name Is the silent homage of thoughts unspoken.

All the means of action -- the shapeless masses -- the materials -- lie everywhere about us. What we need is the celestial fire to change the flint into the transparent crystal, bright and clear. That fire is genius.

The setting of a great hope is like the setting of the sun. The brightness of our life is gone.

Under a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands.

Love keeps the cold out better than a cloak.

Oh, what a glory doth this world put on, for him who with a fervent heart goes forth under the bright and glorious sky, and looks on duties well performed, and days well spent.

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.