Look, up at the sky. There is a light, a beauty up there, that no shadow can touch

People remember Longfellow wrote Hiawatha, quite forget he was a Professor of Modern Languages!

The praise of the praiseworthy is above all rewards.

Don't adventures ever have an end? I suppose not. Someone else always has to carry on on the story.

Then something Tookish woke up inside him, and he wished to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick.

Still round the corner there may wait A new road or a secret gate And though I oft have passed them by A day will come at last when I Shall take the hidden paths that run West of the Moon, East of the Sun.

All have their worth and each contributes to the worth of the others.